Dance of Blood and Wine
by MessierDomain
Summary: When the young Corvo Attano won the Blade Verbena at 16, he never would have anticipated the path it would take him down. The years to follow would end up proving most eventful. Neither would Jessamine realize how much one man could impact the life of an all powerful Empress. (A mostly lore friendly take on Corvo and Jessamine's close relationship, and how it came to be)
1. Chapter 1

_Our story begins in Serkonos, during the annual Blade Verbena, where we meet one of our protagonists for the first time._

 **Chapter 1**

 **The Tournament**

"Ladies and Gentlemen, natives and foreigners! Serkonos greets you all. Welcome to the Blade Verbena, the annual dueling festival! Once again, another year has come and gone, and we now prepare ourselves for a spectacular event filled with dozens of swordfighters each coming to claim the title of champion! And now, allow me to introduce our venerable Duke Theonadis Abele, and wish good luck to all!"

The crowd roared, as the announcer stepped away from the microphone, making way for Duke Abele, who stepped out of his well-shaded seat and into the spotlight. The morning sun shone especially bright as he exposed himself to the mass of people prepared for the annual entertainment. Duke Theodanis Abele was indeed quite lordly, and couldn't have been mistaken for anything else besides one. He dressed in a fine traditional Serkonan silk, the brown texture rippling in the sunlight, matching his graying brown hair. Covering his left arm and trailing behind his back was a cloak the color of sand, and the Serkonos noble house embroidered elegantly on it, expressing his rank and status. As Duke Abele reached the edge of the noble's box, which was positioned above the arena, he gave a warm, wide grin, showing the crowd a pair of glowing white teeth.

Inhaling deeply, he began. "Ahh, it is beautiful to see such a crowd gathered here today. Truly, it warms my aging heart." He gave a chuckle. "The Blade Verbena, our special festival has been a tradition in Serkonos since our formation. It was put together to weave out the best duelists, and to…"

The Duke's words faded out of the young boy's mind. He sat, staring straight ahead with a sword laying across his lap. He didn't even notice the slight shaking of his hands. At last, the Duke finished his speech, stepping back and returning to his seat among the other Serkonan nobles. But the boy didn't pay any attention. All his willpower was focused on listening for the loud, screeching bell, which would indicate the beginning.

The beginning or the end. Whichever fate chose. A single strand of thick brown hair fell out of place and covered his eye. Instantly, without a second thought, he pushed it back, sticking it into the crude ponytail he had formed just moments before. His grooming was interrupted by the bell he was supposed to be paying attention to. The suddenness of it snapped him out of his daze, and he almost jumped out of his seat. The young boy took a long glance at his surroundings, as if he was peering at it for the first time. He was seated on a thin wooden bench, but not alone. All around him were dozens of other fighters and combatants, inexperienced and veterans, each hoping to gain their own bit of fame that winning the Blade Verbena brought. Some had brought their own swords and equipment, masterfully crafted and exquisitely stylish. Others, like the boy, had to rely on the crude tournament gear, ranging from dented swords to armor with holes the size of cotton balls. But as long as there was a good and entertaining fight, the crowd could care less about the condition of said equipment.

"Ey, boy!" A harsh voice wrenched him back to reality. He looked up to meet the eyes of one of the tournament guards who stood in front of him. "What are ya doin still sitting down? You're up first, get yer ass off the bench!"

He got up in an instant, his hand comfortably grabbing the irregular hilt of his short sword. The boy released a breath, steeling himself, then followed the guard towards the entrance of the arena. As they got closer and closer, he could hear the booming voice of the announcer over the loudspeaker, addressing the eager mob. Although he couldn't make out the words, the boy knew the wait would soon be over. On the other end of the arena, opposite to him, stood another guard, and behind him the boy's contender. All of a sudden the loudspeaker went quiet, replaced by frantic cheering. The guard signaled to the boy, motioning him into the arena. Heart pounding, he donned a look of determination, hoping it would hide any trace of fear on his face. As the boy cleared the entrance and stood in the arena, he took a quick moment to study the field. It was rather basic, as far as most arenas go. Shaped like a sphere, completely walled and surrounded by people. But of course, being a national festival, the arena was decorated with all sorts of festive attire, be it flags or other colorful items meant to catch the eye. The ground was covered in concrete instead of dirt, which was strange. Yet the biggest surprise of all was his opponent. Built like a bull, the man appeared to stand at almost seven feet, completely towering over him. The slits in his helmet exposed dark eyes, hardened with years of fighting, or killing. His arms were painted with various scars, each telling a different story. In his hand, the mountain of a warrior held a magnificent longsword, about the length of the boy himself, its hilt and pommel intricately formed, showing the work of a master weapons forger. The man stared ahead, with obvious means to intimidate the small boy. But the young boy met the man's gaze, holding his small dented sword firmly, feet planted on the ground. All around them the crowd yelled and cried, but the boy heard nothing. Nothing existed in the world, except him and his opponent. A second, more prominent bell rang, and both fighters jumped into motion.

The large man moved with incredible speed, slashing his sword in a brutal downward strike aimed to split the boy in half. Yet the blade swooshed harmlessly through the air, the boy sidestepping the strike with almost inhuman agility. Altering his body position without sacrificing speed, the mountain of meat struck again, swinging his sword behind him without looking, attempting to catch the boy by surprise. Just as before, the boy danced out of harm's way, refusing to make an offensive move.

The crowd yelled energetically, laughing and clapping as the two danced the dance of death. The man, panting heavily after multiple unsuccessful strikes, roared with anger at the humiliation the little boy was causing him. He threw a series of swings, each more fervent than the last. And the boy held his own, using a combination of pirouettes and sidesteps to avoid the blows. The man stood breathing heavily in the center of the arena, struggling to lift the heavy longsword. As he brought it up to renew his attacks, the boy struck, quick as lighting. The first cut met with flesh as the blade hit the large man's right thigh. The man cursed, eyes widening as he felt at his leg. The boy stood calm, casting his penetrating gaze at the wounded warrior. Cursing once more, the man pushed on, a combination of shock and anger fueling his every move.

He swung once more, trying to drive home a horizontal strike from the hip. But his newly acquired injury and exhaustion slowed him down, allowing the boy to drop to the ground, narrowly avoiding the deadly blade. Instead of stepping back, the boy attacked once more. His blade slashed the man across the chest, spraying blood on the boy's face. He quickly stepped back, avoiding a possible counter-attack, then moved in once more. The young boy's sword was almost invisible, ripping through the armored target like paper. His opponent flew back, losing his grip on his sword. Breathing heavily and grasping at his wounds, he peered up at the boy who had just beat him. Wheezing, he conjured enough energy to hold both hands above his head, signaling his defeat. Immediately, the crowd shot off like a cannon, cheering and yelling, a mass of noise and flailing arms. But the man kept his gaze on the young boy. He still stood in the center of the arena, sword in hand, unmoved from his last strike. Once again, only one thought came to mind. –Who the hell was this kid?-

-Who is this young boy? - Duke Theodanis Abele mused, staring intently at the winner of the Blade Verbena. He didn't appear like anything special. The child was rather skinny, probably from malnutrition, yet rather well built. His skin, like most Serkonans was an olive color, from being constantly exposed by the hot southern sun. The boy grew his hair long, unlike most other street kids, keeping the unruly brown mass in a sloppy ponytail. His eyes though, were a different story. In his many years of ruling as Duke of Serkonos, Theodanis Abele had seen many faces, peered into many eyes. Yet even he was not prepared for the harshness that appeared before him. The boy's gaze pierced his own, bearing into his very soul, two brown spheres reflecting pain and suffering. But they were not without mercy. The Duke had witnessed that firsthand, as this street-rat had bested every competitor put before him at the tournament. Master swordsmen, seasoned fighters who before this day had gone unchallenged. But this boy danced around each and every one of them, whirling around until they made a mistake, and were struck by the all-too precise blows of the boy's sword. Blows directed to maim, not kill. Yet he could have easily killed all of them.

Duke Abele broke his gaze from the young boy, and looked up at the Captain of the City Guard.

"They boy, milord. As you ordered." The Captain spat out, motioning to the child held in the grip of two guardsmen standing behind him.

"I see that. Thank you Captain, your men can release the boy. You and your men are dismissed, for now." The Duke responded.

The Captain hesitated for a moment, casting an uneasy look at the young boy, then gestured for the guards to release him.

"If you have need of us, milord, we shall be right outside the door."

The Duke only nodded, focusing his attention to the outsider, the unnamed champion of the Blade Verbena. When the guards walked out, shutting the door to the study, Duke Abele addressed the boy for the first time.

"You surprised everyone today, you realize that right? Including myself." The Duke rose from his comfortable padded chair, moving with ease around his study. "You are quite the mystery young rat, but I must say, you have made me quite curious."

The boy stood unmoving from where the guards left him, not uttering a word.

"That curiosity has led to many unanswered questions. Such as, where did a young boy, a beggar boy, learn to fight like that? Who taught said boy?" The Duke paused, contemplating. "But you are obviously not going to answer such questions, judging from your outgoing nature. And I'm fine with that. I respect your silence, no matter what reason drives you to keep it."

He stopped at the wall of his studio, where a masterful sword hung in display. Carefully, the Duke removed it, holding the blade between both hands. He turned to look the boy in the eyes.

"But there is one question I will get an answer to. One whose answer I will not wait for." He grasped the hilt in his hand, feeling the perfect weight and balance only achieved by a few swords. He pointed the tip of the sword in the boy's direction.

"What is your name?"

The boy's silence shocked Abele. Feeling his anger and impatience rising, he spoke.

"I will not be mocked, not in my own home. I asked you a question, little street-rat. If you refuse to answer or even acknowledge my presence, with one word I will make sure the guards throw you back onto the streets and send you crawling back to whatever shit-hole you've claimed as a home."

For a moment, the boy's eyes widened. Whether it was out of fear or just surprise, the Duke could not tell. Yet there was still no response.

The Duke shrugged his shoulders in indifference, lowering the sword. He opened his mouth to call the Captain back, when he was abruptly interrupted by a soft voice.

"Corvo."

The young boy's voice had been so quiet and so unexpected, Duke Abele stood stunned.

"Excuse me?"

The boy licked his dried and cracked lips. "My name is Corvo."

The Duke held in a smile of triumph.

"Corvo who?"

"Attano." The boy spat out.

Duke Theodanis Abele walked back and carefully placed the sword back on the display case.

"Well, Corvo Attano. I have a proposition for you. One that you would be wise not to refuse. I am not a patient man, and grow more ill-tempered in my old age." Turning to face the young Corvo, he spoke.

"Your fighting today at the tournament impressed me. I would like to present to you a position in the Grand Serkonan Guard. You will be given quarters and equipment, and judging from the way you handle yourself, should be able to rise to at least an officer give a few years' time." He stopped, letting his proposal sink in.

Corvo answered almost immediately, giving it no thought. "I accept your proposition."

The Duke allowed himself a rare smile.

"Excellent. I will begin the arrangements for your transfer soon. I have a good feeling about you, Corvo Attano. In fact, I'm almost sure you will end up proving more than useful."

Corvo bowed his head, then headed out the door, changing the course of his life forever.

 **End of Chapter One**


	2. Chapter 2

_So this Chapter is more about Emperor Euhorn, Jessamine's father, and how Corvo ended up in Dunwall. I promise more Jessamine/Corvo interaction in the future._

 **Chapter 2**

 **Dunwall, Island of Gristol**

 _Two years later…_

There was a large crowd gathered around Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin's manor. Nobles from all over the Isles had made the long trip to Gristol, the capital of the Empire to commemorate the Emperor's date of birth. Emperor Euhorn, a kind and honorable man, declared his huge estate located just out of Dunwall, open to all. The outer courtyard, consisting of various elaborately decorated fountains and statues, with large flowers and towering trees sealing it off from the outside world, was the main center of activity. Citizens from all social levels conversed openly, enjoying the complimentary drinks and appetizers served by the endless army of servants and waiters. For the noble families, royalty, or close friends of the Emperor, they were bestowed the privilege of mingling inside the central building, with the royal family. Among the nobles attending was a certain Theodanis Abele, Duke of Serkonos.

"Welcome Duke, it's a pleasant surprise." Emperor Kaldwin announced as he shook the Serkonan noble's rough hand.

Like most of the Kaldwin line, Euhorn was a calm and gentle man, difficult to anger. He had spent most of his reign ensuring peace and harmony throughout his empire. Euhorn's flowing gold hair commanded attention wherever he went, a few streaks of grey appearing as he grew older. Yet it only seemed to add to his composed look, giving him an air of wisdom and understanding. His gray eyes shone like diamonds, a beautiful smile radiating through the air.

The honorable Duke Abele returned the Emperor's smile, presenting his own grin of genuine happiness. The serkonan noble was fortunate to count himself among the closer friends of Emperor Euhorn, having immediately rushed to support him when the Kaldwin family secured the throne.

"Of course, your Majesty. It is indeed good to see you. And in such good health." He spoke.

The Emperor gave a low chuckle.

"I was told you would not be able to attend." He eyed the Duke curiously.

"And miss the Emperor's birthday? Never, your Majesty." The Duke responded with his own laugh.

Emperor Kaldwins' eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Is there trouble on Serkonos? Something I should be informed of?"

Theodanis Abele showed small signs of discomfort, wishing to change the subject.

"Just some local issues. Nothing you need to concern yourself with. And the last thing I would like to do at your party is place my burdens on you."

The Emperor didn't respond. He turned to face the multitude of people, all either drinking or mingling with each other. Facing the Serkonan again, he motioned for him to follow. The two friends navigated their way through the party, stopping every once in a while to greet some important nobleman, or to grab a glass of expensive wine, then moving on their way. After they had distanced themselves from the congregation, Emperor Euhorn sighed, taking a long sip of his drink.

"So, now that we don't have any unexpected eyes and ears, tell me about what is happening in Serkonos."

The Duke sighed, drinking from his own glass. Stubbornly, he postponed the response.

"It's as I say before, your Majesty. A small local issue. My secretary is currently investigating the issue. Again, a trifling matter. It will be resolved within the week."

Shaking his head, Euhorn Kaldwin responded.

"Theodanis, please. We are friends, I hope you know that. Anything that concerns you, bring it to me and I will provide you with the aid you require."

Bowing his head, the Duke spoke.

"Of course, your Majesty. I fully understand. And thank you for your generosity."

Clasping Theodanis's shoulder, he gave him another smile.

"Good. Now, what do you say we join this crazy horde of uptight nobles? I would hate to appear as a bad host and miss my own party. And I believe it is time for the main meal. There are apparently supposed to be 50 different courses."

The two walked back to the center, greeted by a plethora of nobles who were eagerly waiting to get a glimpse of the Emperor. He simply waved to them all, almost pushing his way to his seat at the head of a large dinner table, stretching to the length of the entire hall. Sitting in a rather lightly adorned chair, he gestured to one of the chairs closest to him, beckoning for Duke Abele to sit. He opened his mouth to utter a word, when the Emperor was interrupted by a high pitched giggle. A little girl in a beautiful white dress appeared out of the hug, and jumped onto the Emperor's lap, giving him tight hug.

"Happy birthday father!" She squealed with excitement.

Euhorn feigned surprise, holding her in his arms. "Why thank you Jessamine! You surprised me." He ran his fingers through her hair. "Having fun?" He laughed, placing her on the floor.

Duke Abele peered on curiously. Unlike most nobles, who during an important occasion or party, would lock their children in their rooms with a handmaiden, the Emperor allowed his young daughter full access to attend whichever event she wished. He studied the young Princess Jessamine Kaldwin. Unlike her father, her hair was light black, cut at shoulder's length like most young noble girls. Already at her young age, she showed promising beauty, exposing an elegant angular face, and body. She stared back at the Serkonan, grasping tightly to her father's hand, but gave a smile when another figure moved to join them.

Empress Beatrix Kaldwin was known for her beauty and elegance, navigating gracefully through the crowd to take her place next to the Emperor. She had let her hair down, allowing her stylish ashen hair to flow down her shoulders. Much like her daughter, Beatrix face glowed with a natural splendor and dazzling appearance. Meeting Euhorn's eyes, she reached over and planted a kiss on his cheek, then a similar gesture to her daughter. Noticing Duke Theodanis's presence, she curtsied, extending her hand.

"Empress Beatrix, a pleasure, as always." Duke Abele grasped her hand and kissed it.

She nodded. "Duke Theodanis. It is good to see you. Enjoying the feast?" Her eyes sparkled.

"It would be impossible not to. I hope that one day I can repay your hospitality by hosting your family at my humble home."

The Duke glanced around, watching as everyone, who had witnessed the Emperor take his chair, had begun moving towards their own seats. Empress Beatrix sat to the right of the Emperor, and Princess Jessamine next to her. Duke Theodanis was granted the honorable position at the left side of the Emperor, taking note of another act of Euhorn's endless gratitude. The Emperor stood, raising his glass high, commanding everyone's attention. After a few moments, he managed to quite everyone down. Clearing his throat, he began.

"I would like to personally thank all who are present here today, for celebrating this special day with me. This day is not just for me to enjoy, but for everyone. As another year passes, so does another year of peace in our great Empire. And I assure each and every one of you, that as long as I am Emperor of The Isles, I will make sure that this peace and prosperity stays, and that it may stay for generations to come." He paused, looking around the room. "An empire without its citizens is nothing. An empire without an Emperor is nothing. Yet together, we form a marvelous creation. We from true unity. And with that, I will stop taking up your time so that we may enjoy the bountiful meals that so eagerly await to be eaten. Cheers!"

The table erupted into a frenzy of clapping and cheering. They applauded with such ferocity it seemed to shake the entire building, making it difficult for the waiters to serve the overfilling platters of steaming delicacies.

Duke Theodanis grinned widely as the Emperor sat back down in his chair, leaning over.

"Your speeches are improving, your Majesty." He jested.

Emperor Euhorn laughed. "Well, with age comes wisdom. And I've had plenty of practice. Please, Duke, do eat. I had these Serkonan blood sausages prepared by one of your southern cooks, to ensure they're just like home."

"I thank you, your Majesty." He stabbed his fork into the meat, and brought it up to his mouth. The first bite almost brought tears to his eyes, a combination of the strong spices and nostalgia of home. "They are perfect. It's like I never left."

They ate the rest of their meal in peace, the Emperor turning over every once in a while to whisper a word in his Empress's ear, or to scold Princess Jessamine for gripping her fork and knife improperly. As all 50 courses came and went, Duke took a swig of his beverage to wash down the remaining food, then spoke.

"Your Majesty, I do hope you have a moment. Seeing that it is your birthday, I had arranged for a gift. I hope you will do me the honor of allowing me to present it to you."

"A gift, Theodanis? It is you who honors me. Come, let's go. I grow weary of this crowd." He turned to face his wife and daughter. "Would you care to join me, dear wife?"

Empress Beatrix smiled, and took the Emperor's extended hand. "Why of course, dear husband. Come Jessamine, take my hand."

The four cleared the table, Duke Abele leading while Emperor Euhorn followed suit with Empress Beatrix and Princess Jessamine's hands locked in his own. Once they were away from the crowd, the Duke gestured to his assistant. He immediately appeared with a covered canvas, presenting it to the Duke. Thanking him, he placed it on an axel in front of the Emperor, and unveiled the gift. The Emperor raised his golden eyebrows as the painting was uncovered. It was an elegant picture of the Serkonan royal family, including Duke Theodanis and his wife. The colors were exquisitely done, reflecting the elaborate lighting and detail. Grinning widely, the Emperor looked over canvas in admiration. He then turned to face his friend the Duke, clasping his arm.

"Theodanis, you have left me speechless. It is an absolutely beautiful picture. It will make sure it is present for all to see, so that all can see that Duke Theodanis Abele of Serkonos is a friend to all. I will treasure this. You have my thanks." He expressed honestly.

The Duke of Serkonos bowed. "Only the best for you, your Majesty." He smiled, relieved.

"I do have a question. Who is the ingenious artist who is responsible for this masterpiece?" Euhorn inquired.

Reflecting, the Duke replied. "Ah, hmm, I believe he was from Tyvia. A certain Anton Sokolov if I remember correctly. A strange man, more philosopher than artist, but superb without a doubt."

Emperor Euhorn mused over the painting. "Anton Sokolov, hm. I will have to send for him to paint my portrait someday."

"Ah, your Majesty, there is actually another part to this gift." Interrupting the Emperor's train of thought, glancing back at his helper to ensure everything was in order.

The Emperor gave the Duke a quizzical look.

"Another? Are you trying to outdo yourself tonight, Theodanis?" He asked jokingly.

The Duke returned his smile, then motioned behind him.

"I have the honor of presenting to you Corvo Attano, of my Grand Serkonan Guard. For years, Corvo has served me well and faithfully. Yet it seems he is wasting his talent working for a simple Duke. An Emperor on the other hand, I believe he will be more than useful to you, your Majesty."

A young man appeared from beyond the curtain, wearing the brown and gold uniform of the Serkonan guard. He had dark brown hair, recently cut, exposing his dark eyes. At his side was a sword and strapped to his chest a pistol.

Emperor Euhorn was taken aback. "A guardsman? I have hundreds employed already. Why would I need another?"

"Corvo is no average bodyguard. He is unmatched with a blade, having never lost a duel, no matter the odds. There is no man better suited to protect the royal family. See it as a personal gift, as my thanks for all you have done for me."

Knowing he could not turn down the gift without gravely offending the Duke, Euhorn forced his uneasiness aside.

"Thank you, dear Duke for your generosity. Not one, but two magnificent and unique gifts. Every Emperor should be so lucky." He shifted his gaze to Corvo. "And you, Corvo. It was an honor to meet your acquaintance. Tomorrow we can work out the details of your service. Such issues should not be discussed at a party. So please, enjoy the rest of the night."

The mysterious man bowed low, without uttering a word, then abruptly turned and disappeared into the crowd. The Emperor held back a shudder. Directing his attention back to his family, he looked down to his daughter, surprised to see her staring after the secretive bodyguard, his second, unexpected gift. Emperor Kaldwin cleared his throat, and she immediately broke her gaze and looked up to meet her father's eyes. She flashed him a quick smile, then released his hand and ran off. Chuckling, he met his wife's eyes, and together they walked back to the party that eagerly awaited them.

 **End of Chapter 2**

 _Any criticism or concerns are welcome. This is the first story I have published, and if anything seems wrong or in need of work, please don't hesitate to let me know. Thanks!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

 **The Tower**

Emperor Kaldwin's writing was interrupted by a soft knock on the door of his private study. He set the pen and paper aside, composing himself, then beckoned the guest in. His secretary, Arnold poked his head in,

"Pardon, your Majesty." He whispered meekly, "but there is a Corvo Attano here to see the Emperor. He claims to have an appointment, but does not appear on the official schedule."

The Emperor racked his thoughts for a moment. _Corvo Attano. Corvo Attano. Ah, the Duke's "personal gift"._ He put on a smile.

"Yes, Arnold, he does have an appointment. I'll see him at once."

The secretary's head disappeared from the doorframe. Euhorn Kaldwin sighed, rubbing his eyes. Suffering from lack of sleep from last night's event, he had trudged into his office, hoping for a relatively relaxing day, only to be greeted by a mountain of paperwork. And now, this. The Serkonan warrior going by the name of Corvo. Not for the first time, he silently asked himself why he had taken up the role of Emperor of the Isles.

His train of thought was put to an abrupt stop as his unexpected guest entered. Corvo Attano. As he glided into the room, he gave a proper bow, paying full respect to the Emperor's position. Emperor Euhorn took a quick moment to study this mysterious newcomer. This so-called "legendary" fighter was no more than a boy. He couldn't be more than eighteen years of age, if even that. Like most Serkonans, Corvo had a darker skin complexion than the inhabitants of Gristol, the effect of exposure to Serkonos's powerful sun. The boy had a head of dark brown hair, cut short to show off his facial features. His eyes, acute brown circles that noticed and took in every detail. Corvo's face was clean shaven, accentuating his hard, angular features. Yet nothing stood out as anything special. The Emperor noted that he wore the same uniform from the party.

Clearing his throat, the Emperor broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Welcome to Dunwall, Corvo. First time in the capital?" He asked, engaging in polite small talk.

Corvo simply nodded, not uttering a word.

Seeing that this attempt at a conversation would prove fruitless, Emperor Euhorn moved past the simple talk.

"Please, sit." He gestured to the seat in front of him. Corvo hesitated, then hastily lowered himself into the chair, turning to face the Emperor. "It appears that Duke Abele took great pride in you. Enough to believe that you would make for a suitable gift. Yet… the Duke does have a habit of exaggerating certain things. Which makes me wonder, is anything he said true? Are you truly as good as he claims?"

Corvo sat with obvious discomfort, writhing in his seat. He seemed unsure how to respond, opening his mouth, then shutting it when no words came.

"Is something wrong with your tongue? I asked you a question." Emperor Euhorn said, his interest growing.

"No, your Majesty. There is nothing wrong with my tongue." Corvo finally spoke, his voice a quiet whisper.

"So he speaks. Isn't that shocking." The Emperor replied, in an almost mocking tone. Sighing, trying to keep the tiredness out of his voice, said, "If you don't mind me asking Corvo, how old are you? You seem rather young to be such a talented warrior."

Corvo mused over the question before responding.

"I am eighteen years of age, your Majesty."

The boy's answer didn't surprise Euhorn. He had suspected as much. Yet, to be a part of the Grand Serkonan Guard, and praised by the Duke himself at eighteen seemed almost unreal. Emperor Euhorn couldn't help but feel slightly curious. Time to test the waters, he thought.

"Well Corvo, know that I cannot simply accept some stranger into my service without knowing his true abilities. As much as I trust the Duke's assertions, I'd rather judge your skills for myself. I prefer knowing the capabilities of the men who are tasked to ensure my survival." He paused. "And consider my curiosity peaked."

The Emperor turned his back to Corvo for a moment, studying his schedule for the day.

"Now, I have a meeting in about fifteen minutes, and if you're as good as they say, it shouldn't take us long. Follow me." The Emperor commanded Corvo as he exited the study.

Approaching Arnold, he spoke. "Arnold, I am taking Corvo down to the training courtyard. Could you please send for Captain Thaler to meet us there?"

The secretary looked up from his desk, taken by surprise, but only for a moment. He jumped into action, nodding to the Emperor.

"Of course, your Majesty. I'll send a servant for him right away."

As Emperor Euhorn strolled through the main courtyard outside Dunwall Tower, he spoke to Corvo.

"I'm sure you're wondering what exactly I have in mind. Well, I propose a duel. Using training weapons, of course. That's where Captain Thaler comes in the picture. He's an excellent swordsman, and has served me loyally as Captain of the City Watch for many years. And I've yet to see someone best him in a swordfight." He gestured to the weapon rack, displaying row after row of wooden training blades.

Corvo approached them, studying each carefully, before deciding on a simple short sword. He met the Emperor's gaze and nodded.

"Your Majesty." A voice spoke from behind. The Emperor watched as Captain Thaler approached, greeting him with a smile. "You asked for me?"

"Good morning, Captain. I didn't pull you away from any important duties, did I?" The Captain shook his head no. Then he spun to face Corvo. "Captain, allow me to introduce Corvo Attano. He just arrived from Serkonos."

"A new recruit for the City Watch, your Majesty?" The Captain asked.

"Something of the sort." The Emperor shot Corvo a somewhat mischievous smile. "Now, the problem arises that I have never seen him fight. And with the reputation he has, I am more than curious." He faced the Captain. "You wouldn't mind training a bit with Corvo, just to work out his strengths and weaknesses?"

Captain Thaler glanced at Corvo, with obvious discomfort. "Are you sure, your Majesty? But he seems like just a boy." He spoke, confused.

"Which is exactly what interests me. Boy or not, I will see him fight. One way or another."

Pushing his discomfort aside, Thaler gave a sudden bow, hearing the unspoken order in the Emperor's words. He grabbed a wooden sword then joined Corvo on the training field. The Emperor stood to the side, with a shining smile on his face. Captain Thaler faced his opponent. A mere child, yet he stood across from him, completely calm. Corvo's blade hung loosely at his side, his feet in a standard combat position, legs spread out, boots planted firmly on the ground. His analysis of his target was interrupted by the loud _clang_ of the duel bell, signaling the beginning. And made his first mistake.

The Captain, still unsure of his current situation, decided to wait for Corvo to make the first move. But at the sound of the bell, Corvo stepped into motion, crossing the short distance between the two of them in seconds. Shocked, the Captain barely had time to raise his sword to deflect the blow. Thaler staggered back, attempting to keep his balance. Gasping, he looked up to see Corvo pacing back and forth, standing in a defensive position. Gnashing his teeth together, he moved steadfast towards him, swinging his training sword in a set of fast strikes. He waited for the sensation of wood hitting flesh and bone, yet was left disappointed. The Serkonan had completely dodged the blow. Each swing had missed their mark, until the last. As his blade came down, Corvo instantly parried it, knocking the Captain's sword away from his body, and quickly slashed. It wasn't a particularly hard hit, but Thaler felt the tip of the blade make contact with the area right below the chest, a precise and deadly blow. He backed out, wheezing for the air that had been knocked out of him, and staring with a growing sense of awe and fear. The boy was quick. Incredibly quick. Captain Thaler had spent most of his life with a sword in his hands, and yet this…kid was making a fool of him.

Without thinking, he charged once more. Thaler attacked, raining down devastating blows and Corvo, one after the other gracefully danced out of harms way. His awe turning into anger, the Captain suddenly brought up a tightly closed fist and felt it connect with Corvo's surprised face. His concentration disrupted, Thaler moved to the offensive, whacking his stunned opponent with an intense ferocity. As he brought down his wooden sword for a final finishing blow, Corvo struck, lightning quick, hitting the Captain once in the stomach, then swung his sword against Thaler's head with such strength it snapped the wood in half. The unexpectedness and intensity of the blow was enough to completely knock out the Captain of the City Watch.

Corvo stood in the midst of the dust, panting, as the Emperor approached him. His hand clenched the broken hilt, eyeing Euhorn.

He finally spoke up, speaking quietly. "Well Corvo, forgive me for ever doubting your abilities." The Emperor paused, staring at the aftermath left behind. "I've never seen anything quite like that before. Come, let's head back up to my study and conclude this." He said thoughtfully, turning around and walking out the training field and back to Dunwall Tower.

Corvo hesitated for a moment, taking a moment to catch his breath. Feeling the bruise on his cheek where the Captain had hit him, he glanced up, towards the endless windows of Dunwall Tower. Looking down on him was the face of a young girl, her black eyes staring intently. As soon as their gaze met, she immediately moved away from the balcony and out of sight. Looking up at the balcony, then at the doorway, he sighed and dropped the broken blade, following the Emperor back inside.

Once back inside the Emperor's study, Euhorn spoke out. "That was quite a show you put on Corvo, smacking down the Captain like that. You've made some enemies today, I can guarantee you that. But…" The Emperor stopped, deep in thought. "You are talented, there is absolutely no question about that. And the Duke did trust you. I am assigning you to the Royal Guard. It's a small group of soldiers, charged with the protection of the royal family."

"The family?" Corvo asked, puzzled.

"My wife, the Empress Beatrice and daughter, Princess Jessamine." He eyed Corvo. "I am taking a bit of a gamble on you Corvo, entrusting the lives of my family to you. But I am willing to take that risk. I hope I can rely on your loyalty."

At this point, Corvo spoke up, dropping to one knee. "Of course, your Majesty."

Euhorn Kaldwin contemplated the young man's words. So serious, cold. The boy had obviously lived a difficult life, growing up in Serkonos. The Emperor felt a pang of sadness towards young Corvo, thinking of his own little daughter. Corvo was probably taught to fight and kill the same time he was taught to read and write.

"Very well." The Emperor handed Corvo an enveloped, stamped with the sigil of the Kaldwin family. "Hand this envelope to my secretary. He will provide you with all the details of your new arrangements."

Corvo nodded, thumbing the edges of the paper, then stood up straight.

"If that is all, your Majesty?" He began.

"Of course, of course. You're dismissed, Corvo." The new bodyguard opened the door to exit the study. "Welcome to Dunwall." The Emperor added, as he left the room.

Another almost inperceptible nod, and he was gone.

As Corvo walked out the Emperor's chambers, he head a quiet gasp from around the corner, leading to the hallway. Curiously, he poked his head, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious eavesdropper, but was greeted instead with with an empty hallway. Sighing, Corvo dismissed the noise, then began the arduous search for his new living quarters.

Princess Jessamine Kaldwin saw everything. As soon as the strange young foreigner called Corvo appeared in her father's chambers, she curiously positioned herself outside the window, eagerly poking her head out as much as she dared to watch the confrontation. And when her father had lead this mysterious boy down to the training field, she watched with growing fascination from the balcony outside her room. But her sense of marvel quickly vanished as she watched the fight between him and Captain Thaler, and was replaced by fear and anguish at the sight of how violently he put down the Captain, containing a shriek as he had snapped his sword against his head. Then, how he had looked at her afterwards, eyes burning with fury, standing undisturbed over the body of the motionless Captain. Jessamine was sure her father would remove him from Dunwall Tower, banish him from the city. Yet Jessamine listened, with growing fear, as her father granted Corvo a position protecting them. She shivered. Didn't her father see how dangerous this man was? Why couldn't he see?!

"I'll never let him near me." She whispered to herself, huddling alone in the corner of her room.

"He may be a Royal Guard, but I won't let him near me."

Princess Jessamine Kaldwin lay alone, confining herself to her chambers in Dunwall Tower.


	4. Chapter 4

_**(Sorry for the long delay on this chapter, but it is a bit longer and more action-packed than last time, so enjoy. There are two parts, the second part concluding the chapter)**_

 **Chapter 4**

 **Morley (Part 1)**

Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin stepped off the escort boat and onto solid land for the first time in weeks. He stood unsteadily, his feet attempting to compensate for the fact that he was no longer on a rocking ship. Lifting his hand to shield the morning sun from his eyes, the Emperor held out his hand to help his daughter, Jessamine. She looked up at him and smiled, ignoring his open hand and jumping straight off the edge of the boat and landing on the cobblestone street. Euhorn shook his head, hiding a smile. His daughter, now eleven years of age, was growing more and more unruly, he thought. - _I suppose I'm responsible for part of that…-_ he mused, recalling his own childhood. Jessamine danced around, laughing at the feeling of land under her feet. She twirled and spun, ignoring the staring eyes from passerbyers. As she glanced back up at her father, her dancing came to an abrupt stop. Her smile disappeared from her face, and the shining light from her eyes vanished, as she moved clear of the port's exit.

Emperor Euhorn turned around, spotting Corvo Attano uneasily stagger out of the boat. Directing his gaze back to his daughter, he sighed. Euhorn could sense the uneasiness Jessamine felt towards the newest member of his guard. It had been a few months since Corvo had arrived at Dunwall, and Jessamine had done everything possible to avoid him. No that he blamed her. Corvo wasn't exactly the most outgoing when it came to conversing or engaging in any sort of social activities. He kept to himself mostly, an unchecked shadow swooping through Dunwall Tower, appearing only when called for, or when he wanted to. Corvo was certainly off-putting, at least to the Emperor. What his daughter perceived him as, he couldn't imagine. But, the man was talented. As soon as he was appointed, Corvo had successfully sniffed out and corrected any security breaches or potential threats that had shown up. Like the letter warning them about trouble from Morley. The letter which was responsible for the rather abrupt and unexpected journey to the northern island.

The Emperor's train of thought was broken by a light tap on his shoulder. Ambassador Rowley, who had insisted on accompanying the family on their visit to the isle of Morley, the Empire's northernmost island. The Ambassador whispered in his ear.

"Your Majesty, King Alven Brymir's envoy has arrived."

Emperor Euhorn saw as soldiers clad in full body armor, swords strapped to their hips. They bore the Kaldwin sigil, and behind it the King's. A member of the envoy, dressed in elegant court attire instead of armor, approached the Emperor. Thanking Rowley, he turned to face the emissary, putting on his best smile.

"Your Majesty, Emperor Kaldwin." The man bowed, his voice warm. "Allow me to extend a warm felt welcome to Morley. King Brymir is honored by your visit, and eagerly awaits your presence. If it pleases you, your Majesty, we have prepared an escort to ensure your comfort and safety for the short trip to the King's estate."

"It pleases me greatly, thank you." The Emperor responded, looking around for his daughter before advancing towards the carriage. As he approached the armed escort, he felt a hint of a presence behind him. Expecting his daughter, he was instead found himself face to face with the secretive Serkonan. Corvo gave him a questioning look. Leaning in, he whispered.

"My daughter and I will take the carriage. Take the rest of the guard and follow closely with the horses. Watch for any trouble or disturbance. I'd rather not stay any longer than needed."

Corvo nodded, breaking off from the Emperor and towards the other member of the Royal Guard. The Emperor had brought three of his most trusted bodyguards, led by a Commander Thomas Briss. The Emperor had debated heavily on whether to leave Corvo back at Dunwall Tower with his wife, but decided against it. Corvo was exceptionally skilled. And the entire empire was fully aware of the dark and bloody history between Morley and Gristol. – _Better to be safe than comfortable-_ he thought, helping Jessamine into the carriage.

The carriage drove through the estate's front entrance, through the gilded gold gate doors. Emperor Euhorn was immediately escorted to the king's personal study. As they entered the main hall, he heard his daughter sigh. It was indeed an impressive sight. Surrounding them were beautifully crafted statues of each king of Morley, standing watch with a large longsword resting between their hands and knees. Natural sunlight flooded through giant abstract windows, illuminating the room in various colors. He looked down at Jessamine, who stood, with a dreamy expression on her face, eyes jumping from one masterpiece to another.

Their dreamy state was interrupted by a polite whisper.

"Your Majesty, King Brymir's study is just through here." The emissary motioned.

The Emperor walked through the adjacent door, and entered the King's chambers. Like the rest of the castle, it was lavishly adorned, everything from pure gold statues to rare and expensive paintings. But the room itself, aside from the paintings and figurines was relatively bare, boasting a single oak-wood table and chair, where the King of Morley sat, waiting. But not alone. He was flanked by two guardsmen, sporting dark red coats. Each one was fully armed.

The emissary eagerly announced his presence.

"His Majesty Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin, First of his name."

"Yes, yes, I'm fully aware who he is, thank you." The King interrupted the young man, directing his attention to the Emperor.

"Welcome, your Majesty. I hope the journey was not too taxing. I have sent for refreshments to be brought, they should arrive any minute."

"Thank you, your Grace. It's been a while since I have made the trip to your island. A bit too long, it seems." The Emperor glanced around, suddenly feeling slightly claustrophobic as he took note of the abundance of red-clothed guards.

He cleared his throat.

"Your Grace, I am afraid I am quite weary. It has been a long day."

The king rose from his seat.

"Of course, your Majesty. I will send someone down to show you to your rooms. I have made sure that the best room was prepared, your Majesty. I hope it proves more than…"

Alven was interrupted by a series of footsteps. The Emperor watched as Corvo entered the King's study.

"…satisfactory." King Alven finished, eyeing the newcomer.

Emperor Euhorn flashed a smile. "My thanks, Alven. I am sure it will indeed fit my needs."

Stammering, the King spoke.

"Uh, I have arranged for a private dinner tonight. I hope that your Majesty and the Princess can join us."

"Sounds excellent. See you at dinner."

At that, Euhorn beckoned his daughter, and they exited the King's study, with Corvo following closely behind.

King Alven Brymir beamed as the Emperor and his daughter appeared at the dinner table. He got up from his seat at the head of the table and gave a cordial bow.

"Your Majesty, I am glad you could join me. Did you rest well?"

"Excellent, Alven. I slept like a child. Yet my midday nap seemed to have awakened my appetite."

The Emperor approached the table with his daughter, taking a seat next to the King.

"Well, I had a special banquet prepared just for your Majesty. The cook calls it, 'The Isles'. It is a dish consisting of meals from all over the Empire, each cooked to perfection. I am sure you will not be disappointed."

Jessamine's eyes widened as one of the servants placed a platter of food in front of her. She quickly dug in, forgetting her manners, grabbing a piece of bread with her hands and sticking it in her mouth.

"Jessamine." Emperor Euhorn scolded, "Don't eat with your hands. Use your fork and knife." He turned his attention back to the King. "Thank you for this generous meal. I've never tasted anything quite like it."

"I will make sure to pass your compliments to the cook."

They sat in silence for most of the meal, interrupted by the occasional compliment from the Emperor, or whispering of the King's guards. Euhorn watched over his daughter, who was completely absorbed by the food. She quickly finished, then met her father's gaze.

"Father, can I explore the castle? I saw a pretty painting in one of the rooms we passed, and would like to see more." She asked, pleadingly.

King Brymir interrupted with a chuckle.

"I can arrange for a tour of my home. I'm sure you will find plenty of other paintings to catch your eye." He stopped, eyeing the Emperor. "That is, if your Majesty allows it."

Euhorn's eyes jumped from the King's to his daughter. Sighing, he spoke.

"Oh, alright. But don't stay too long."

Jessamine's eyes lit up, as she gave her father a wide smile.

"Excellent! Princess Jessamine, this is Marten. He will now obey your every command, and gladly give you a full, extensive tour."

The Emperor spoke up. "Commander Briss, accompany the Princess. Make sure to keep an eye on her, that she doesn't break anything."

Commander Thomas Briss gave a quick bow, moving to stand at Princess Jessamine's side. Emperor Euhorn's eyes scanned the room for Corvo, but couldn't find the Serkonan bodyguard. Shaking off his unease, he gave his daughter a quick smile as the three of them left the table to explore the vast wonders of the estate. The dining room was now almost completely empty, save King Bryimir and the Emperor.

Clearing his throat, the King announced, "Now that we have a bit of privacy, I do believe there was a specific matter you wished to discuss with me, your Majesty."

Not for the first time, the Emperor sat still, pondering where Corvo was at this moment.

"Yes, of course. There indeed was a matter that was brought to my attention recently, which happens to concern you…"

Corvo silently stalked the Princess and her posse, taking special care not to make a sound. Luckily, young Princess Jessamine was speaking quite loudly, masking his movement and shuffling footsteps. He did not trust King Alven. The moment they had set foot on Morley he could sense the uneasiness in the air, and the large number of armed guards did nothing to quench that suspicion. His thoughts were interrupted by a loud sigh as Jessamine ogled over a golden lion figurine. Shaking his head, he broke off from the tour and began to head back towards the main hall, where the rest of the Gristol guards had taken rest.

With the Emperor conversing with the King at dinner, and Princess Jessamine on the royal tour, Corvo stood uneasily in the hall, unsure what to do with himself. Sighing, he moved back towards the hallway, finding a vacant area with a simple chair placed near one of the giant abstract windows.

He felt his eyelids grow heavy as sleep approached, when he was jolted by the sudden sound of smashing glass, followed by heavy boots. Corvo jumped up, frantically looking around, trying to determine the location of the disturbance. His first instinct was to head towards the dining hall, where the Emperor and the King were located, but was stopped in his tracks by a shrill scream from the other direction, from the hallway.

Corvo changed direction, backtracking through the maze of rooms and hallways, when he stumbled on a body. Holding in a curse, Corvo looked over the mysterious corpse. The man was masked, his beige tunic stained red from a wound in his side and neck. Gripped tightly in his hand was a short dagger, coated with blood. Corvo scanned the room, searching for any sign of the missing Princess. No Princess, but instead a trail of blood, which led to more bodies. Most of them were similar to the one he encountered before, but two stood out. Cowering in a fetal position, Corvo recognized the servant in charge of the tour, his throat brutally slit. Yet it was the last corpse that caught Corvo's attention. It bore the navy blue colors of the Gristol guard. Commander Briss. A short blade was lodged in the former commander's chest, and blood was pouring from wounds all over his body. Corvo sighed, his anger and frustration growing. To his left was a smashed window, leading to outside the palace. He peered out the gap, catching a glimpse of the beige tunics violently carrying a smaller figure, shoving it into an armored carriage that stood waiting. Without hesitation, Corvo leaped out the window, rolling as his boots hit the grass. Staying in motion, he quickly mounted a nearby horse and took off after the carriage.

Princess Jessamine Kaldwin sat shaking in the rickety carriage, a thin sack over her head concealing the world. She knew they were moving, and fast, judging from how violently her body thrashed around as the carriage raced down the cobblestone roads. Without thinking, she gave a low whimper, feeling the fear slowly engulfing and suffocating her. Not seconds later, Jessamine felt a hard fist connect with her small stomach, knocking the air out of her lungs.

"Quiet, girl." A gruff voice spoke, full of anger.

She heard a sigh.

"Careful, don't damage her. We were told not to cause any unnecessary harm." Another voice muttered.

"I don't give a shit what our orders were. If she starts crying and bawling her eyes out, I'll beat her bloody." The first man paused. She felt the hotness of his breath as he leaned in, firmly grasping her arm. "You understand that, girly? I will beat you. Princess or not."

"Oh yeah, she totally gets it. Congrats, Wilson, you can intimidate and beat a little girl." Another voice responded, mockingly.

There was a low round of laughter. Jessamine sat, petrified, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, fearing the gruff man's wrath. Her thoughts were broken as the carriage came to a sudden stop, almost throwing her out of her seat.

As the carriage door opened, she heard a third voice, this one different from the rest. It was warm and inviting, dragging her mind away from her current situation.

"About time. You two, grab her and bring her inside." The voice spoke, warm and soft.

Once again, she flinched as a pair of hands roughly grabbed her and hoisted her up in the air, carry her away from the carriage, and placed on a chair. After she was firmly tied, with both hands on the armrests, the sack was removed from her head. Gasping, Jessamine looked around her. She was in a dimly lit warehouse, with cells lined up by the side of the wall. In front of her stood a desk and some chairs, the only furniture in the building. Breaking her gaze, she forced herself to glance at her captors. Each one was masked, dressed in cream colored robes, brandishing sharp blades. Forgetting the previous man's threats, he whimpered ever so slightly, then immediately flinched, fearing the violent response. One of the mysterious men laughed, stepping towards her. It was the man with the sweet voice.

"Look at that, you've really scared the shit out of her." He chuckled, producing a rag, gagging her.

"Please forgive me, Princess," He spoke mockingly. "It's a necessary precaution is all."

His melodious voice seemed to sap at her strength, feeling a strange sense of unease replacing her fear.

"You see, Princess, your father is not a very nice man. He's upset some people. And those people thought it was time to teach him a lesson. And here we are." The man whispered to her, stowing his blade. He turned to face the remaining men.

"Do a perimeter check. Make sure you weren't followed." He pointed to one of the men near the back. "You. Prepare the cell, then message our contact. Let him know our part is done."

The men snapped into motion, leaving her alone with the soft-voiced man. As he faced her again, he laughed.

"You should see your face, my dear." He leaned in closer. "You know, I've done quite a few different jobs in my lifetime, but this is the first time I've kidnapped a child. And a princess at that."

"In fact…" His words were interrupted by the sudden neighing of horses. He paused for a second, then began to call out to his men, issuing orders.

"Hey, check the door! If someone's snooping around, take care of them! I'm not taking any chances with this job." He shouted, snapping his men into action.

Jessamine watched it all with widening eyes, unable to fully comprehend her situation. She flinched as a sudden yell of pain echoed through the warehouse. The shout seemed to have come from the entrance of the building, near the door. The soft-spoken man drew his blade, then began to yell more instructions. One by one, her captors began to move towards the front entrance, when there was another cry, coming from the other side of the room, where the cells were located. Jessamine stared in horror as the man who had been prepping the cell lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood, the culprit nowhere to be found.

"Spread out! Go in pairs, no one go alone. Find this guy, and kill him!" The man spoke, removing all the warmth from his voice.

The men began to search the building, scouring every inch. There was no sound except for the occasional scream as another captor succumbed to death, until there were none left. Panic seizing him, the man who only a few minutes ago had been in full command of the situation sheathed his sword, drawing out his pistol instead.

"Wilson! Barry! Anyone there?!" He called out, fear betraying his voice.

Materializing out of the shadows was a hooded figure grasping a bloodied sword. Jessamine recognized the uniform, the navy blue blending with the darkness. Yet this one was covered in dark red splotches, staining the colors. Instead of hope, she struck once more with fear.

"Hey, stay back! Not another step!" The now terrified leader of ex-captors suddenly moved, grabbing Jessamine and placing the pistol against her head. She muffled a cry at the sudden touch of cold metal resting against her skull.

The mysterious Gristol guard slowly removed his hood, exposing a familiar young, sunbaked face, brown hair hanging loose. Standing in front of her, ragged and bloody, was Corvo Attano. She stared at him, fighting feelings of astonishment and fear as his slender shape moved closer and closer. She tried to meet his gaze, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead, Corvo focused his penetrating gaze on her captor, drilling him with hard, merciless eyes. Corvo's face illustrated a sense of calm, but she could sense the anger radiating off him as he strafed back and forth. At the sight of Corvo's eyes, the man loosened his grip of Jessamine. Corvo took a step forward.

"I said not another step! Or her brains will decorate the walls!" He spoke, voice cracking.

Corvo stood, silent as a stone, not removing his eyes from the man. Then, she felt herself abruptly being shoved forward as her captor released his grip on her. She stumbled, still bound, heading straight for the floor. Yet she never got there. Holding her in his arms, securely was Corvo. He gave her a warm look, then his eyes shot up and steeled at the sound of fleeting footsteps. Corvo took off, chasing after the man. Jessamine tried to turn her head to catch a glimpse at the encounter, but her fear and exhaustion caught up to her. She heard a surprised shriek as Corvo caught up to the captor, followed by a couple cries, then utter silence. The quiet was soon dissipated by the sound of approaching footsteps. She looked up at her savior, who hoisted her off the floor and back on the chair. Corvo removed the gag from her mouth, then drew his stained blade. She cried out, then felt the sharp edge slice through the bonds that held her hands. Jessamine held a sob as Corvo patted her down, searching for any wounds, squirming in his grip.

"Are you alright, Princess?" Corvo's quiet voice broke the silence.

She met his eyes, and saw him staring at her. But unlike before, the fire was gone. Instead, his eyes were cool and inviting, his touch soft and caring.

"They were…they…" She broke into tears, releasing all the horror and terror she had kept bottled up, sobbing quietly.

Corvo held her tightly in his arms, ignoring the wet tears soaking his uniform. He caressed her long dark hair, almost awkwardly.

"Princess." Corvo whispered in her ear.

Jessamine ignored his call, keeping her face buried in his coat. He gave off an aroma of spices, sweat, and blood, yet she found it somewhat comforting. The smell lulled her into a state of exhaustion.

"Jessamine."

Hearing her name, she raised her head, peering her eyes at Corvo. His face was completely different from before. The angry expression, tightly knit eyebrows, curled lips, were all gone. Now, his brow was raised, a worried expression on his face, his lips forming her name.

"Jessamine?" He asked.

She nodded, not breaking her gaze.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Another shake of her head. Corvo opened his mouth, then shut it, appearing in deep thought. He leaned in closer.

"Do you know why I killed those men? They tried to hurt you. It's my job to protect you."

He paused, contemplating his next words.

"I will always protect you, Jessamine. No matter what, I'll always be there to protect you." He whispered, looking away, into the darkness.

Jessamine sniffled.

"Always?" She spoke.

Corvo looked up.

"Always."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Corvo got up, offering his hand to Jessamine. She took it, allowing him to lift her to her feet. Jessamine stared at her protector, the shock of the day's events beginning to fade. Together, they walked outside into the daylight. After helping her onto one of the horses, Corvo stopped.

"Wait here. Be right back."

She didn't even have time to object before Corvo disappeared back into the haunted warehouse. She watched her surroundings nervously, fearing someone else would swoop out of nowhere and take her again. Her paranoia was interrupted by the sounds of muffled screaming. Jessamine turned around and saw Corvo with a small smile on his face, dragging her captor, bound and gagged. Corvo had removed the mysterious man's mask, showing off a face of utter terror. Jessamine watched, shocked as Corvo wordlessly threw the man onto the back of the horse. After he was secured, Corvo took the reins, and turned to face her.

"Let's go see your father." He smirked.

 **To be continued…**


	5. Chapter 5

( _ **This is the second part of Chapter 4, taking up the view of the Emperor and King, concluding the troublesome visit to Morley)**_

 __ **Chapter 4 (Part 2)**

At the sound of a muffled scream, Emperor Euhorn rose abruptly from his seat at King Alven Brymir's table. He cast a worrisome look at the King.

"What was that?" He spoke wearily.

King Brymir shrugged off the question.

"I'm sure it's nothing, one of the servants stumbling on a rat at the most." The King stated, unfazed.

Unconvinced, the Emperor uneasily sat back down in his chair, releasing his firm grasp on the seat's armrests.

"Whatever it is, your Majesty, I'm sure my men have it under control. This is the most heavily fortified and secure building in all of Morley." He eyed the Emperor. "But, if it would make you feel more comfortable, I can send some men to check on it."

He shook his head, "No, I don't believe that will be necessary. I'm sure you're right."

The King flashed the Emperor a smile, then gestured to the table, which had been cleared to make room for a map of the island. "Shall we return to the matter at hand?"

"Yes, lets."

Brymir placed his hand on the map, pointing to a specific set of islands off the coast of Morley.

"As I was saying, my Cabinet and I have been discussing Morley's rights to this island off Tyvia, called Hubrin. If you take a look at this old map of the Empire, and to our old testaments of the establishment of Morley, this island should actually be under my rule. And yet, Tyvia holds it."

Glancing at both maps, the Emperor held back a scoff.

"Tyvia holds it, and with good reason. Don't think me ignorant of your conflicts with Tyvia as well, Brymir. I am fully aware that a good 40 odd years past, after the Tyvian's effectively held off a Morley invading force from that exact island, they fought back and attained it on their own. Spoils of war, I believe they are called."

Slightly flustered, King Bryimir shifted in his seat.

"Yes, I know that Tyvia claimed Hubrin after my father's invasion failed, but that does not change the fact that the island belongs under Morley rule. It always has, and always should. We have documents, maps enforcing our claim…"

"Just like Morley wished to enforce its claim for Tyvia itself? Are you trying to convince me that Morley is not at fault here? That they did not deserve some form of punishment for lashing out against another country?"

The Emperor took a sip of his drink, peering curiously at the King, who sat with obvious discomfort.

"Parliament and I decided it was time to check on Morley, so I came myself. Because I care about those under my rule. I heard about certain troubles in your country, and came to offer my assistance if necessary. Yet here you come to me with these demands." He paused. "I would like to avoid any awkward or unnecessary confrontation. Yet I also care about the complaints from Tyvia's representative in my court about Morley armed forces intruding Tyvian territory without consent or provocation."

The King sat speechless, thinking of a proper response.

"I..well, we have good reason…to…"

The Emperor cut him off.

"Why do you want Hubrin? What is so important a small island off Tyvia that serves no other purpose aside from a naval base?"

The King gave a nervous laugh, rising out of his seat, pacing the room.

"Your Majesty, you offend me. Are you accusing me of planning an invasion?"

"I accuse you of nothing. You seem to be doing that well enough yourself."

The Emperor watched as anger burned in King Brymir's eyes. Behind him, the Morley guards shifted, tightening their hold on the halberds. The king's lips moved to form a sentence, but never finished his sentence.

The doors to the dining hall shattered open, revealing a dirty and bloody hooded man, wielding a pistol in both hands. He quickly shot both guards, who had been scrambling for their weapons, effectively dropping them to the floor with fist-sized holes in their chests. The deafening sound resonated through the empty hall. Dropping the smoking firearms, Corvo broke into a sprint, unsheathing his blade and cutting down the two remaining guards in a flash, two precise cuts in the throat and across the chest, grabbing King Brymir by the collar and throwing him against the table. He drew his blade, holding it at the King's throat. It was then he looked up to meet the Emperor's astonished eyes.

"Are you alright, your Majesty?"

Emperor Euhorn, who had risen from his seat, stood completely shocked. He was unable to respond when a small girl, in a ripped and dusty dress walked in, leading a bound man with a petrified expression on his face, shuffling through the remains of the door.

"Daddy!" She shrieked.

Princess Jessamine ran to her father, fiercely embracing him. Still in shock, the Emperor hugged his daughter back, with a blank look. Shaking out of his daze, he shouted.

"Corvo! What are you doing? What is going on here?!"

Corvo released his gaze from the King held in his grasp, and addressed the Emperor.

"Your Majesty, this man is responsible for the attempted kidnaping of Princess Jessamine."

At this point, the King, who was squirming in Corvo's iron grip, spoke up.

"How dare you?! I am a King, and this is my home! What right do you have?!"

"The right as a Royal Guard of Gristol, protecting his Majesty and his family."

Emperor Euhorn intervened.

"Corvo, release him. If the King is to respond to an accusation, it won't be at the point of a knife. Now, explain yourself." He commanded, shifting into his role as an Emperor.

"While your Majesty and the King were here, Princess Jessamine was kidnapped." He gestured to the bound man who stood stiffly. "This was the one in charge of the operation. He states that he received a letter from King Brymir that gave the order."

The bound man, under the steely gaze of Corvo and the Emperor, stammered.

"Uhh, yes, yes, your Majesty. I remember it clear as day." As he became more and more nervous, his Morley accent became more prominent, making it difficult to understand him.

"My men and I, well we received a letter. Very fancy. You could tell it was made of excellent quality from the touch. It was…"

"Get to the point." The Emperor growled, losing his temper.

"Oh, right, of course. Well, the letter gave plenty of details about your visit and the such. The location of the rooms, dining times. And at the bottom, was the royal seal of Morley.

Shocked, the Emperor turned to face the fallen King.

"What say you to this, Brymir?" He spoke in a low voice, containing his anger.

Eyes, widening, the King spoke fervently.

"Lies, all of it! I never sent out such a letter. There is not an ounce of truth in his words!" He paused, taking in the sight of those around him. "Why would I wish to harm you or your daughter?"

"I can think of a few reasons right now." The Emperor replied. He turned to face the captive. "Do you still have the letter?"

The bound man nervously shook his head up and down.

"Y-yes, your Majesty. In my coat pocket. I was to give it back to the men when they came for the girl. Princess, I mean. I would give it to you, but…" He gestured with his heads to the ropes binding him.

At this point, the room began filling up with a wave of blue and red uniforms, running over after the gunshots. One of the Gristol men took the opportunity and quickly frisked the bound captive, revealing an unmarked envelope from the man's jacket, quickly handing it to the Emperor. Tentatively, Emperor Euhorn removed the infamous letter from the envelope, glancing over its contents. Everything the captive spoke was true. The letter was extremely informative, filled with plenty of details outlining all that was necessary. And sure enough, at the bottom was the wax seal of none other but the King of Morley.

Shaking his head, he turned to face the ex-King.

"Brymir, how could you? What did you hope to gain from this folly?"

Breathing heavily, Brymir spoke out.

"What, don't tell me you believe this unknown scoundrel? I am telling you, I know nothing of this letter, and would not do anything to harm any member of the royal family!"

"I'm afraid this letter states otherwise. I might have not believed it, if your seal had not been firmly stamped at the bottom. Followed by your signature." He sighed. "I'm sorry Brymir, but I am placing you under arrest for the attempted kidnap of my daughter, Princess Jessamine Kaldwin. You will come back with us to Dunwall for your trial and justice. Guards, take him away."

The navy blue uniforms snapped into action, binding the King's hands and escorting him away. But the King did not go quietly.

"This is not justice! I will not stand for this, do you hear me Euhorn?! I will prove to you…"

Brymir's cries faded away as the guards escorted him out. Sighing, Emperor Euhorn looked down to face his daughter, who looked at him with teary eyes. He bent down, tightly wrapping his arms around her, whispering in her ear.

"Oh Jessamine, I am so sorry. I will never let this happen again, believe me." He spoke, wiping a tear from her cheek.

She responded, whispering in his ear.

"He saved me daddy. He saved me." Her gaze shifted to someone behind him.

Turning, the Emperor came face to face with Corvo Attano. Corvo stood over them, dirty, tired, bloody. Yet a thin smile appeared on his face, as he looked down at Jessamine.

Clearing his throat, Euhorn spoke.

"Corvo, I owe you my thanks. For saving my daughter. For taking care of her and rescuing her from those thugs. Who knows what they would have done if you had not shown up." He searched for more words, but none would come. Instead, he placed his hand on Corvo's shoulder, giving him a warm smile.

"Now, I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit homesick. And I'm sure your mother is missing us. What do you say, we hop on the boat and head back home. Hopefully we'll be just in time for the birth of your new baby brother or sister." Euhorn spoke, rubbing Jessamine's head.

"Let's go home, father." She whispered, smiling as her hand found his. Corvo watched them both, unable to resist the urge to grin wildly as the three of them exited the dreary castle.


	6. Chapter 6

_**(Please forgive the long delay, had some real-life things to deal with, but with Thanksgiving here, hopefully I'll have some extra time to write the next chapter. I plan to continue this story for a while, so don't worry about that. As always, enjoy!)**_

 **Chapter 6**

 **The Garden**

The sudden interruption of knocking on the wooden door broke the afternoon's silence, startling Corvo from his midday nap. Disoriented, his hand immediately shot to the scabbard strapped to his hip, grasping the familiar pommel of the blade. As he opened his eyes, recognizing his office, Corvo's grip relaxed.

The muffled voice belonging to a servant spoke out from the other side of the heavy, padded door. "Ehm, sir Attano? I have a message from Princess Jessamine. She…"

At the mention of the Princess's name, Corvo shot out of his chair, and greeted the page, effectively interrupting the vital report. Giving him a dead-eyed stare, he beckoned him to continue, snatching his boots off the desk and lacing them up carefully.

"Well, she asked for your presence in the garden. I was told to repeat that it is urgent and of utmost importance." He stopped, shifting nervously. "And, ah, if you were not down in five minutes to…"

"Yes, I understand." Corvo spoke the three words, finishing up with one of his boots and moving onto the next. His rough hands pulled tightly on the laces, moving methodically. He rose and slipped on the buttoned uniform draped over his chair.

Nodding, the servant exited his studios, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing through the hallway. Sighing, Corvo finally reached for his sword, sliding it into its comfortable sheath, completing his outfit. He exited the office, wandering through the endless doors and hallways of Dunwall Tower. It had already been a few months since his arrival in Dunwall, almost a full year, but Corvo knew exactly where he was going. He had spent his first weeks meticulously outlining the entire tower, making note of every route, every nook and cranny. It was rather easy. The architect, wasn't exactly very creative. Although the interiors were decorated quite fashionable, the design for each room and hallway was practically identical, and rather bland. Corvo turned the corner, reaching the arching doorway to Dunwall Tower's exquisite garden, located in a secluded area behind the looming building. He held a hand in-front of his eyes, blocking out the fall sun, as he peered at the maze of plants and bushes. Shaking his head, he began to venture down one path, following the aging passage to a dead end of vines. He held back a curse about young princesses and their whims, catching a muffled high-pitched giggle. Indulging his curiosity, Corvo kept his ear to the ground, following the voices to the deepest point of the vast garden.

Reaching the center, he held back a gasp. It was a flower metropolis, a center of life and beauty. Shaped like a giant star, Corvo found himself surrounded by all forms of plants and flowers from all over the Isles. The monumental trees stood silent watch over the garden, the leaves taking their natural transformation from the summer green to glowing red and orange, bathing the field with a lukewarm light. Each flower stood at full bloom, exposing their colorful core to the world, asking to be admired. White orchids, reflecting the sun's energy off their pale petals. Lavishing pink cherry blossoms lay intertwined with mint green jade vines, stretching through the entire surroundings, engulfing all. Intricate tulips were delicately planted in the fertile soil, showing off their beauty to all. And at the farthest end of the garden, was the famous Gristol rose. It stood proudly, a mixture of red, white and yellow, illuminating all.

Corvo was taken aback by the sudden beauty, he almost didn't notice the two figures snickering in the corner of the garden. Dressed in white shirts and black skirts, they stood huddled together, focused on some creature that demanded their attention. Corvo cleared his throat loudly, interrupting their concentration. Turning to face him, he saw as Princess Jessamine's face lit up, leaving her spot on the dusty ground to greet him.

"Corvo! You're here!" She stood at his side, keeping her eyes locked on his. "Well, it's about time. Now we can start."

"Uh, start?" Corvo asked hesitantly.

Princess Jessamine ignored him, gesturing to the other girl giggling in the mud.

"Corvo, this is Delilah, my friend. It was so boring here, so we wanted to play a game. Like chase. But it's no fun with just two of us. But now that you're here, we can hide, and you can come chase us."

She flashed him a brilliant white smile, her dark eyes radiating and making it quite clear that Corvo didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Delilah was now beside her, giving him the same pleading look.

Giving in, Corvo sighed. "Fine. Go hide."

Jessamine let out a cheer of triumph.

"Thank you Corvo! Now, count to twenty, no thirty! And no peeking!"

Corvo turned around, burying his face in the nearby vines to obscure his vision. He began counting up slowly, while listening intently for the sound of pattering feet running off into the garden.

"One, two, three…" The sound of his counting faded out as his ears honed in for any unnatural vibrations. "Twenty nine, thirty." He spun around, his eyes narrowing. "Here I come." Corvo whispered, a smile tugging at his cheeks.

Corvo took off towards the exit of the garden, crouched low, his feet sliding soundlessly on the path, eyes alert for the slightest movement. Unfortunately, he found himself at a bit of a disadvantage. Having never entered the garden before, he was on completely unfamiliar land, wandering through new territory. More than once Corvo was faced with a dead end or heading in circles. But his disadvantage was short-lived. Making his third loop by the entrance of the garden, he caught a hint of white in his peripheral vision. His head snapped in the direction of the intruding color, catching the blur of a running figure. Corvo smiled, breaking into a sprint after the intruder. Without breaking a sweat, he turned the corner of the path, coming face to face with Princess Jessamine huddling in the shadow.

"Oh come on Corvo! That wasn't fair." She pouted, then grinned. "Did you find Delilah?"

Corvo shook his head. "No, not yet."

"All the better. That means we can hide together next round. Come on, let's go find her." She took Corvo's hand, leading him on.

The two found Delilah shortly after, hiding just a few steps from where Corvo encountered Jessamine. Smirking, Jessamine spoke out, turning to face Delilah.

"Since you were found last, you get to look for us. Corvo and I will hide."

"Alright, but you better hide well. I'm pretty good at finding people." Delilah responded, beginning the count-down.

Corvo ran out the heart of the garden with Jessamine, analyzing his surroundings. His face lit up as he found a perfect spot. Beckoning Jessamine to follow him, Corvo stopped in front of one of the shaded benches. He quickly scaled the short wall, then lied flat on the wooden slab. Jessamine watched in amazement.

"Now that's not fair. How's she supposed to find us up there?" She remarked.

Shrugging his shoulders, Corvo said. "She said she was good at finding people. Let's see how well." He held out his hand.

Holding back a smile, she took his open hand, letting him lift her up into the air. Corvo smiled, watching as she giggled, peeking her head over at her friend counting softly against the plants.

"She's never going to find us up here." Jessamine whispered in his ear, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice.

They lay together on the wooden slab, watching as Delilah wandered clueless around the garden in search for them. Corvo couldn't help but smile as he watched her frustration as time and time again her search ended up futile. He shared his grin with Jessamine, whispering quietly to her.

"Well, this is fun."

She turned her head slightly, enough to face him, without giving away too much movement.

"Sometimes. It's a bit dull with just the two of us. But now that you're here, we have a third person to play with." She stared off into the garden. "Did you play games like this when you were a kid?"

Corvo's brow furrowed as his thoughts were drawn to his arduous childhood. Memories of blood and pain clouded his mind. A blade slashed though, opening a wound of suffering and sadness. He shook his head violently, clearing his head. He spoke quietly, the playfulness gone from his voice.

"No."

Sensing the change in tone, Jessamine eyed him.

"No? You didn't play anything? Why?"

"It's a long story."

"Well, we have time. Please Corvo?"

"Not nearly enough" Corvo spoke, ending the conversation.

Corvo and Jessamine observed each other's silence, focusing their sight on the field surrounding them. Neither said a word. After watching their innocent friend run frantically around the outer patio for a few more minutes, Corvo broke the silence.

"Think we ought to reveal ourselves. Don't want your friend to get worried and end up calling the guards." He made a move to get down, shifting his body across the plank.

Sliding down, he offered his assistance to Jessamine, who took it wordlessly, running off to surprise her friend. Corvo stood back, watching their playful interaction with soft eyes. He felt a pang of regret and anger, and admiration at their innocence. His self-pity was interrupted by the yelling of a woman, beckoning Delilah back inside Dunwall Tower. Jessamine and Delilah exchanged goodbyes, then reunited with the voice, leaving Jessamine alone. Corvo walked over, breaking both their solitude. She met his gaze.

"I think I should be heading inside as well." She said.

Nodding, Corvo responded. "Allow me to accompany you, Princess."

She nodded, leading Corvo out of the maze of plants and back to the entrance of the Tower. Together they tread wordlessly through the hallways, stopping as they reached the foot of Jessamine's door.

"Thank you." Jessamine spoke, her voice filled artificial courtesy.

Corvo bowed. "My pleasure, Princess."

Jessamine opened the door to her room, then stopped. She turned to face him, her mask of false civility breaking.

"About the garden." She paused, composing herself. "I'm sorry, Corvo."

Jessamine hastily exited his view, shutting the door. Corvo stood dumbfounded, unable to respond. He stared at the outside of her door, processing her apology. Sighing to himself, Corvo pivoted, heading back to his chambers as the noon bell rang.

 _(One week later)_

Somehow, one way or another Corvo found himself once again in the magnificent garden. He had spent most of the week in a daze, jumping from one task to another, feeling as if something was missing, searching for some key component. At the end he simply let his body instinctively guide him, leading Corvo back to where he saw the Princess Jessamine and her companion.

He knelt down, picking one of the carefully tended tulips, admiring its elegant beauty. His hands rolled over the petals, feeling the soft, smooth texture between his fingers. His daze continued, moving from flower to flower, soaking in and absorbing all it had to provide. The slight scraping of feet against the dirt floor alerted Corvo of someone's presence. Turning to face the trespasser, he was surprised to see Jessamine watching him intently. She walked over and stood next to him, refusing to look him in the eyes. Instead she followed his example, going through each flower with delicacy, respecting the flower's frail nature. Together they stood, enjoying the peace and seclusion of the empty garden. Corvo picked a rare pure blue tulip, one of the most distinct and scarce of its type. He held the extraordinary flower out, offering it to her.

"Peace?" He spoke, a single quiet word.

Her neutral expression broke, revealing a smile. Carefully grabbing the flower by the stem, she responded.

"Peace."

Corvo nodded, turning back to the quiet and tranquility.

 _ **(Again, sorry for the delay and short chapter. I didn't want to drag the scene on for any longer than was necessary, but the next chapter should be longer. I have already started it, so it will be out soon. I'm working on my time management, so that in the future the chapters can flow out at a more consistent rate.)**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

 _ **Noble Lord Protector**_

Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin sat impatiently in his looming throne, listening restlessly at the annoying bickering of the members of the Parliament. Their mouths opened and closed noisily, spitting out insignificant sentences of irritation, an endless flowing wound of words. Rubbing his forehead, the Emperor willed his splitting headache away, attempting to at least show some expression of caring. Today's topic, just like the rest of the week, was the situation of Lord Protector. His Parliament, made up of important lords and pompous nobles from all over Gristol occupied the vast and spacious structure of Dunwall Hall, the center of the Empire's politics. The council members were placed in a seated circle around a simply-decorated wooden table, the Emperor positioned at the head of the table, overlooking the table and its members in a fine yet elementary adorned throne, in which Euhorn Kaldwin now occupied.

Casting aside his exhaustion and annoyance, the Emperor honed into the conversation, as a deadly battle of wits took place between two members of Parliament.

"…what, and have another Oswald as Protector? Because that ended so well the last time."

"Yes yes, we are all aware what happened last time, but that was years ago. This is a different Oswald, not as brash or enigmatic as his grandfather…"

The mindless quibble was cast aside by a booming voice coming from the other end of the room commanding their attention.

"Gentlemen, perhaps we should allow our gracious Emperor to have a say in our decision. This is his daughter's future we are discussing, after all." Lord Lucas Pendleton spoke loud and clear, directing his gaze to the Emperor cast in his lonely throne.

One of the councilmen groaned.

"I am sure we all know his Majesty's stance on the topic, and it is clear that his Majesty does not agree with us."

This time the Emperor spoke.

"My Parliament, as I have stated before, the choice who shall be our next Lord Protector falls to my daughter, Princess Jessamine Kaldwin. Know that I will stand behind her, no matter who she chooses to take up that mantle of responsibility."

As usual, the council erupted into a noisy ruckus, each individual trying to place their voice above another's.

"It is obvious who her choice will be. She spends nearly every waking hour with that foreigner Corvo Attano, it is the natural decision." An outraged voice cried out in anger.

Irritated, Emperor Euhorn raised his cry above theirs.

"If my daughter wishes for Corvo Attano to act as her Lord Protector, then I will support her choice. There are worse protectors than Corvo, believe me gentlemen."

This did nothing but add fuel to the raging fire. Lord Pendleton spoke, the opposing voice.

"Your Majesty, the position of Lord Protector has always been held by one of both noble and Gristol descent. In many cases, the title holds just as much importance in politics as it does in combat." He paused, licking his lips. "Many men here come from noble Gristol families, families who have lived here for generations. And those men have sons. Sons, who could potentially fill the role of Lord Protector. As warriors, they could protect the Princess from all harm, and with a noble family, have influence in worldly affairs. Your Majesty, all we ask is for the opportunity to present these qualified and talented gentlemen to your daughter, fair Princess Jessamine, so that she can see that there are others that can protect her besides the outsider Corvo." He sat back in his seat, satisfied with the murmured consent of the room and its members.

Euhorn stroked his graying beard, searching for words.

"Gentlemen, I do believe you misunderstood my statement. Know that I mean no disrespect to the noble families of Gristol, nor its customs and traditions. I am fully aware of the history behind the role of Lord Protector, along with the abundance of eager fathers waiting to thrust their children into the spotlight. If my daughter was to choose one of your sons, I would still support her decision. But again, if Corvo Attano is her choice, so be it."

"But this Corvo is a lowly Serkonan, a rat picked off the streets to be paraded with the cats. He has no experience in proper court etiquette, no family history. We know nothing about him. We are not even sure if we can trust his loyalty. And yet you would place your daughter's life in her hands?"

"Corvo Attano has proven his loyalty far better than any of you." The Emperor spoke, unable to contain the writhing anger coursing through his entire body. "When my daughter was taken from me, kidnapped by scoundrels, it was no entitled noble's son that tracked her down. There was no rich capital boy to protect her from attackers and deliver her safely back to her father. There was Corvo Attano. A boy of eighteen years, a foreigner to our lands, born as low as could be. When she disappeared, Corvo sought her out. Corvo fought through a dozen men and rescued her relatively unharmed. This is the boy, no, the man, that protected my daughter when no one else could. And yet you harp on, dare to ask me how I could let such a man become our Royal Lord Protector. That is why, my lords. That, is why."

The Emperor slid into his seat, back straight as a board. His chin was held up, his face locked with a look of determination and daring, staring off each individual member.

"But the Princess…" A brave soul spoke out, but was quickly shut down by the Emperor's unnatural fury.

"The Princess is my daughter! And I am her father. The business concerning her protection and well-being is mine and mine family. I don't understand why my family's matters should be paraded around in plain sight, for all to see. Even an Emperor is entitled to some form of privacy when the conversation turns to his family. This conversation about who can take better care of my own daughter has gone on long enough. The decision will be made by my daughter and I, who will come to an agreement without Parliament's interference."

He finished, looking almost weary at the shocked faces of Parliament, feeling the satisfaction of the small victory. But the happiness was short-lived, as once again Lord Pendleton took the stage.

"I'm afraid that's where you are wrong, your Majesty. You gave up your personal life and privacy when you sat down on the throne. Now, as far as we are concerned, we all have a duty towards the good of the Empire. And the Emperor and his family are important pieces in securing its prosperity. When we discuss this topic, the protection of your daughter, it is not discussed to intrude or disturb your privacy. It is for the Empire. One day, Princess Jessamine Kaldwin might have to step up and take the throne, and if she does, it is our duty to ensure her safety. I'm sorry, your Majesty, but your self-entitled privacy disappeared the moment you donned the crown and took up the title of Emperor of the Isles. Your duty is to Gristol, and all the Isles under its rule."

The distraught presence of the Emperor darkened the brightly lit dining hall. The words and conversations from earlier that morning floated through his head, repeating over and over. As the evening fell, and dinner came around, his thoughts stayed the same. While his family dined on, taking full advantage of the plethora of tasty dishes, he sat mute, his gaze locked on a distant point. As he made no move for any food, his reticent nature did not go unnoticed for long. Taking note of her husband's solitude, Beatrix Kaldwin, his good wife, flashed him a smile, and spoke, her soft voice ringing pleasantly through the room.

"You do not eat, my husband."

Euhorn was startled by the unexpected statement, effectively snapping him out of his solemn state. He met his wife's eyes, a fake grin tugging his lips.

"Afraid I don't have much of an appetite tonight."

His wife gave her belly a rub, running her hand over the enlarging bump occupied by the soon-to-be latest edition to their family. For a moment, Euhorn was filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Ever since the birth of their daughter, he and his wife had tried desperately to have another child, preferably a boy, one who could take up the responsibilities of the Empire when he eventually passed away. His stiff grin was quickly replaced by a genuine smile, a sense of warmth running through his chilled body.

"Do you feel him? Is our child kicking again?" He whispered.

"Kicking as usual, with enough strength as if to break out right now." She joked, sipping from her glass. Beatrix glanced coyly at her husband.

"What troubles you, my dear? What happened in Parliament?"

The small flicker of happiness brought on by his pregnant wife withered out immediately, his thoughts returning to the painful conversations that took place within Dunwall Hall. The Emperor's gaze unconsciously fell on his daughter, the blossoming Jessamine. She sat quietly in her seat at the table, munching innocently on a piece of softened bread, toying with a dinner knife.

He sighed. "I'm fine, love. Just a bit tired. You know how those meetings go. A lot of arguing, and little progress." Turning his attention to Jessamine, he smiled. "How's the food?"

Jessamine looked up from her plate, meeting her father's warm gaze.

"It's good." She proclaimed, fidgeting with the blunt edge of the knife.

He leaned in, placing his elbows on the table.

"So, what did you do today? Anything interesting?"

Her eyes lit up as she quickly shifted to the center of attention.

"Well, it rained a bit this morning, so Corvo and I went out to look for worms! We played a game, whoever found the biggest worm won." She murmured. "Corvo won, of course."

At the mention of the young Serkonan bodyguard, Euhorn's face formed instinctively formed a frown. Ever since the dreadful event that occurred in Morley, Corvo and Jessamine had been almost inseparable, the lonesome princess and her taciturn protector. He reflected on the distasteful words of Parliament, knowing that however painful it was, they had a point. His daughter had done very little in terms of exposing herself to the world and lifestyle of the offspring of the Emperor, preferring instead to bask in the majesty of Dunwall Tower, running around the vast grounds with Corvo and her peasant friend, Delilah. _–I failed as an Emperor-_ , he thought, the harsh realization finally surfacing. He glanced at his wonderful wife, watching as she listened with attentive eyes at Jessamine's many adventures.

Clearing his throat, Euhorn softly interrupted the wild tale.

"Jessamine, my daughter, we need to have a discussion." He drank deeply from his goblet of wine, steeling himself for the bitter conversation. "As you know, your 12th birthday is quickly approaching. And when that day comes, it is custom to choose a Royal Lord Protector. I would like to discuss the potential candidates for this meaningful position."

"Oh, you don't need to worry father, I already know who I want." She giggled, oblivious to her father's solemn state.

"Look Jessamine, this is a serious position. I am sure that Corvo Attano, who I am sure is who you have in mind, would be a good choice, but we have to consider other options here."

Her ecstatic state quickly disappeared, replace by a puzzled look.

"Is there something wrong with Corvo?"

Shaking his head, her father responded. "No, of course not, my love. But I do believe we should look at who else could fit this role. You see, since the creation of Gristol, the Lord Protector has been one born in Gristol, and noble birth. Now, Corvo is neither one of those, and certain people might feel a little uncomfortable with having a foreigner in that powerful position. They don't know who he is, what he's like."

Jessamine's eyebrows furrowed. "So you're saying there _is_ something wrong with Corvo, aren't you? Just because he isn't from here, he can't protect me?"

Exasperated, he breathed out. "Jessamine, there are plenty of others who can protect you just as well as Corvo can. I know quite a few handsome noble's sons who are excellent fighters. Why, there's the son of Lord Bunting who you've met a few times. He was nice, wasn't he?"

His words fell on deaf ears, as Jessamine sat sulking, focusing her attention on the plate of food in front of her. Euhorn looked at his wife with pleading eyes, begging for help. She nodded, placing her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"My love, listen to your father's words. He's not saying that you won't see Corvo, or that he's leaving. All your father wants is for you to look beyond Corvo. He's right. You've spent too much time locked in Dunwall Tower. We want for you to make friends, friends that befit your status. Remember, you are a Princess, the daughter of an Emperor. It's time for you to learn how to behave like one. And that means socializing with other nobles."

Jessamine finally looked up from her plate, staring her father in the eyes.

"Fine, father. We can talk." She admitted in defeat.

Empress Beatrix smiled, taking Euhorn's hand in hers. He mouthed a silent thanks, rubbing her soft palm. Their quiet embrace was interrupted by Jessamine, who noisily dropped her eating utensils on the table.

"I'm full. May I be dismissed?" She asked, eyes locked on the floor.

"Yes, you may." Jessamine scurried away from the table. "Jessamine?" She turned. Her father gave her a reassuring look. "We'll talk later, yeah?"

She nodded her head, then took off, running through the open doors to whatever new journey or adventure awaited her.

It was certainly a strange sight to behold. Princess Jessamine Kaldwin stood in front of the mass of Gristol citizens, standing on the wooden stage, surrounded by her family and other vital nobles. And of course, Corvo Attano. Not for the first time, Emperor Euhorn cursed his tender nature. As promised, he brought forth a dozen noble sons, each completely capable men for the position. Yet in the end, his daughter had gone ahead and chosen Corvo Attano as her Lord Protector, greatly angering the members of his Parliament. But now, as he watched the smile on Jessamine's face as the ceremony began, he knew she made the right choice. He had personally overseen it as all the entitled sons exhibited their talent and skill, each one proving a disappointment when compared to the prowess and finesse of Corvo. Emperor Euhorn gazed out in the crowd of his people. Word certainly spread quickly. When the people heard that the Princess had chosen a foreign Serkonan to be Lord Protector, the curiosity and interest drew an impressive congregation. It was without a doubt one of the more peculiar sights they have seen. Standing in the center of the elegantly decorated stage was the young Princess, and kneeling at her feet, pledging his fealty till the end of his days was the outlandish Serkonan. Corvo looked good. When he was first offered the position, Corvo responded with a bit of skepticism, but quickly accepted the honorable position. He was given fresh clothes, a long flowing navy coat, embroidered with gold buttons, and a handsome black vest underneath. His usually wild, flowing brown hair was confined to a neatly tied ponytail, matching his clean-shaven face. In his hands was a freshly forged sword, made especially for his hard grip. The blade laid across the palms of his hands, extended towards his daughter, the Princess. Emperor Euhorn felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and turned to meet the eyes of his wife, Beatrix Kaldwin, who stood at his side. He returned her smile, putting aside a moment of reflection. Sighing, he thought at the yelling he would have to endure during his next meeting with Parliament. But as he saw his daughter's cheery face, his worry quickly disappeared. She was happy, and that was all that mattered to him. She was happy to have a friend, and Euhorn couldn't have chosen anyone better to protect the life of his daughter.

Emperor Euhorn heard a slight gasp escape from the mouth of his wife. Her hand was clasped firmly on her swollen stomach, her face forming an expression of pain and shock. Realizing what was occurring, he quickly ushered her backstage, yelling for support from the awaiting servants. Luckily, the actual ceremony had concluded, so his daughter and her new Royal Protector were simply standing, smiling and waving at the ongoing crowd. At this point there was a mess of servants and guards who were quickly escorting the Empress back to Dunwall Tower, and Princess Jessamine walked over to her father, asking curiously what was going on.

"Your mother's heading back to Dunwall Tower! She's having the baby!"

Her face of curiosity was soon replaced by surprise and bewilderment. Beckoning Corvo to her, they followed the Emperor to one of the carriages anticipating their arrival to whisk them back to the Tower. Emperor Euhorn glanced back as he saw the City Guard begin their work of concluding the festivities and sending everyone back home. Each and every member of the vast audience had the same confused look plastered on their faces, staring as the royal family quickly disappeared.

"Is she going to be alright?" Jessamine asked, worry overtaking her voice.

Euhorn held his words, refusing to breathe as he stared out the window.

"Father! Is mother going to be ok?" She spoke again, raising her voice.

"She'll be fine." He whispered, reassuringly more to himself than to her.

The expression of doubt and fear remained on her face, as she looked at Corvo, who sat silently next to her. He gave her a small nod, nothing else.

But Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin didn't notice it at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**Kept you waiting, huh?**

 **It's about damn time I finished writing this chapter. I'm afraid I suffered from what we writers call, a "lack of motivation". I needed a little break, along with having to deal with some dreadful real world issues. But, this chapter, which I started writing almost 4 months ago, has finally reached its conclusion. I know before I stated that this series would go on for a while, at least until it matched up with the beginning of Dishonored, but now, I can't make that same promise. Still, I will do my very best to continue this series to the best of my abilities. And I want you all to know that I am eternally greatful for the wonderful feedback and that you are all wonderful people.**

 **Till the next…hopefully**

 _Chapter 8_

 _No More Tears_

The funeral took place on a bright and sunny day, giving off the false illusion of normalcy. It couldn't be further from the truth. Corvo stood silently next to Princess Jessamine, watching the Royal Guard carry the strangely beautiful casket. A week had passed since the death of Empress Beatrix Kaldwin, and her baby son, a week filled with tears and sorrow. He remembered with deep heartache when he walked into the bedroom chamber with the Emperor and Jessamine, staring with grief as they grasped and hugged the lifeless corpse of a mother, and a wife. Everyone processes deep loss and sorrow differently. Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin tried his best to compose himself, to maintain a posture of professionalism, but ultimately ended his days wandering through the beautiful garden. For Jessamine, coping the loss was a bit more difficult. She locked herself in her chamber for days, emerging only for food and water, seeing no one, not even him. Corvo didn't blame her, and knew it would be best to give her space. And yet here they were, one week later, with solemn faces and dried eyes, for there were no tears left to shed.

Corvo placed his hand softly on Jessamine's shoulder, giving her a reassuring look. She met his gaze, but cast an empty look, of exhaustion and anguish, as if waiting for the nightmare to end, to wake up and have her mother standing over her, flashing her famous radiant smile. Although it was nothing short of a nightmare, there was no waking up from it. The nightmare had become their life. He heard her stifle a sob as the parade of uniformed men holding the casket with her mother and brother passed by them and came to a stop at the burial ground the Emperor had chosen. It was on a vast hill just outside his manor, surrounded by lush green grass, and a single oak tree at the top, which would soon house the burial ground of the sleeping Empress and her child. Once they were securely lowered into the welcoming earth, Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin stepped forth with his written eulogy, addressing all of his Empire. There were words, touching words that brought tears in the eyes of many. But not them. Euhorn, Jessamine, and Corvo stood hard as stone, their respects already payed. With his speech finished, the Emperor was greeted with a unanimous applause, a wave of raw emotion rolling over the empty fields of endless grass. But the Emperor was oblivious to this, stepping off the podium with his head locked on the freshly printed gravestone, the last representation of his loving wife. It was almost too much for him. It was too much for Jessamine. She broke away from Corvo's touch, and ran off, away from the scene of death and pain. Corvo moved to intercept her, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. The Emperor. He shook his head sadly, watching her race through the tall grass and towards the bleak manor. Corvo stepped back in line, side by side with the Emperor, standing soundlessly as the people of the Empire payed their respects to the fallen Empress. It was a beautiful day, but all the Empire mourned.

 _Five days later_

He heard the approaching footsteps before the agitated knocking. Smoothing out the new coat of the Lord Protector, Corvo twisted the doorknob, coming face to face with the Emperor. Shocked, he quickly composed himself, gesturing him inside the quarters within the vast mansion, reserved for Corvo.

"To what do I owe this visit, your Majesty?" He asked, clearing his throat.

Emperor Euhorn paced around apprehensively, stroking his thick gold beard.

"Have you seen my daughter? It's been almost a week since the funeral, and she hasn't uttered a word to me. And now she didn't show up for breakfast or the evening meal today."

Corvo pondered, taking note of her absence for the last week. He looked up at the Emperor.

"I'm afraid not, your Majesty." He saw the anguish flood into the man's eyes. "But I'll look for her. Don't worry, your Majesty, I'll find your daughter."

The Emperor placed his hand on Corvo's arm, sighing heavily. Before him was not an emperor, but a man, one who had lost his wife, and perhaps his daughter.

"Thank you Corvo." He whispered.

Corvo nodded, then accompanied the Emperor out his quarters, where they split up. His first stop was the young princess's room. It wasn't the first time he walked through the giant manor, but that didn't stop him from admiring the luxurious design and architecture. But his thoughts did not drift for long. As he reached the foot of her door, Corvo knocked cautiously. No response, as expected. He slowly creaked open the door, entering the chambers of Princess Jessamine Kaldwin. His eyes shot from corner to corner, searching for any sign of forced entry or evidence of struggle. No, this was no kidnapping. Wherever the Princess was, she was there by her own hand. Corvo tried to backtrack her steps, placing himself in her shoes. Where would she go, to avoid all confrontation with the outside world?

Of course, she had locked herself on the roof. The small balcony, usually serving for chatting among the elite and privileged was the perfect location for a self-appointed exile. It didn't take long for Corvo to find her. He watched her curiously as he stepped onto the gravel-like surface, gazing out over the endless grass fields, and to the majestic oak tree, standing watch over the Empress's lifeless corpse. Jessamine sat with her head in her lap, refusing to acknowledge his presence as he sat beside her, still as a rock.

"Princess." He spoke.

There was no response. Corvo sighed, unsure what to do in such an unfamiliar situation.

"Princess Jessamine, please. Your father is worried, as is the entire staff." He saw his words had no effect over her.

Her posture did not move. She looked as if she had been crying, with her head bowed down in shame. Yet Corvo made no move to console her. His hands were still as stone, remaining unmoving from his side. Soon, the sound of sniffling and sobbing filled the desolate chamber once more, and the torrent of sudden emotion smashed into the still figure, breaking the icy embrace that held him oh so still. Moving slowly, placing one foot in front of the other, Corvo felt his outstretched hands reach for the lonely life, embracing the warmth as his arms wrapped around the young Jessamine. The sudden contact brought forth a flinch, but only for a moment. Corvo held Jessamine in his arms, feeling the fear and trepidation dissipate, replaced by exhaustion, and sadness. Yet her tears didn't stop, flowing freely down her cheeks, falling harmlessly onto Corvo's jacket. He paid no attention. Finally, his tongue unwound itself, and words once again began to flow.

"Jessamine."

Her name. A simple thing, yet the weight it carried was unparalleled. Her name, which in any other case would be followed by her royal title, and a pledge to her service, a symbol not for a girl, but for royalty. For importance. It stood for once, on its own. There was no "Princess", or "Your Highness". Just Jessamine.

The small head raised itself ever so slightly, which for Corvo, was enough to know she was listening. Yet even that small movement sent pangs of torment through his motherly bond that was so brutally severed from this little girl's life brought back darkened memories long forgotten, which only through pain and suffering had resurfaced its way into the mind of the troubled Corvo. Faces of a different life, where each day brought a new age of hell. But this time, Corvo wasn't going to forget them.

"I never knew my mother." The words had emerged without thought. A fleeting sense of panic washed over Corvo. But it was too late.

For the first time that dreadful evening, Jessamine's head rose from her chest. Her eyes still refused to meet Corvo's but it would have made no difference. Corvo, his eyes locked on the eternal horizon, allowed the words to flow.

"I never knew my mother." He repeated. "By the time I was born, she was gone. I never knew if she was dead, missing, or just refused to see me. And at some point, I didn't care."

Corvo refused to let tears fall, drawing what little strength remained to contain himself.

"At the age of eight, my father was killed. At eight, I wandered the streets on my own. At eight, a blade was placed in my hand, and the knowledge of death placed in my head. I was without name, without innocence, without mercy. I was shaped by the very emotions I pledged to keep out. Fear. Love. Sadness."

His gaze finally broke, and he looked deeply at Jessamine.

"Don't let these emotions consume you. Death is a part of life. One way or another, we all experience it. It is how we deal with the aftermath of death, that reveals who we truly are." He stopped, clearing his throat. "Remember your mother with a smile, always."

That was it. As the last sentence stumbled out, his jaw shut tight. He struggled to look at Jessamine's watery eyes. Relief washed over him, as he finally came to terms with the past.

"I'm sorry Corvo." Her small voice whispered.

This time, Corvo did not avoid her look. Her eyes shone in the dark, the reflection of the moon through a solitary window illuminating them. This time, Corvo did not hold back. A single tear dripped down his cheek, rolling softly down his face.

"And I'm sorry, Jessamine."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter IX

The soft morning sun pierced through the sky, night making way for day to take its place. Beams of natural light rose from the horizon, illuminating the world eager for its nurturing touch. Soon enough, the thin morning dew would be seen by all, vibrant flowers enjoyed, brought to attention as natures spotlight turned on them. The icy mist brought to guard the unwelcoming darkness conquered by the accepted champion of the day. And order continued, resuming the endless cycle of life, concluded by death, and reignited by life once more.

One particular blade of light landed on a hardened face, bringing forth an immediate frown as it shook its owner from a fitful slumber. A single eye opened, the brown pupil confronting the day. The eye was slowly followed by the rest of its body, as mindless movements brought it out of the bed where it had laid only moments before. Toes met the floor, fingers flexed in their sockets. The body moved as one.

Corvo, still not fully awake, shook the sleep from his eyes, moving through his chamber towards a pan of water in his bathroom. He splashed the rejuvenating water on his face, removing any trace of lethargy from his body and mind. Before him, a mirror allowed him to peer at his own reflection. And see the ray of light that had made its way through his thick blinds. Making his way to the other end of the room, he cast aside the blinds, basking in the warmth as light flooded the empty chamber.

Recent events had spurred a sea of drastic changes. Too drastic for Corvo's liking. Between his selection as Lord Protector for Princess Jessamine Kaldwin, and the unforeseen and grievous death of the beloved Empress, things certainly changed. He could feel it in the air, the tenseness, the anger, the sadness. It was thick, threatening to suffocate them all. And then there were his newfound responsibilities and expectations as Lord Protector. Corvo could still hear them, the shouts of shock and dismay at the thought of a mysterious foreigner being tasked with the protection and safety of the heir to the Empire. Some said nothing, their face revealing all, where others held nothing back, spewing whatever vile thoughts came to mind. In Dunwall, it was a bit more complicated. Masterful politicians and well-trained court-members smiled to his face, greeted him with a welcoming hand, yet were quick to sneer and whisper softly behind his back, thinking themselves safe from his ears. Corvo still heard it all. Not that he minded all that much. He had spent his entire life being scolded and looked down upon by those who believed themselves better than him.

The final news of his choice as Lord Protector also came as a bit of a surprise to the Emperor himself, but His Majesty had approved wholeheartedly, ignoring the "counsel" of his advisors to choose a different candidate. Yet he held firmly to the decision set for by the Princess. Young Princess Jessamine Kaldwin. Heir to the Empire of the Isles, and its entirety. A girl of 12. A girl who would soon be responsible for ruling that Empire.

He found himself at the foot of the door to her chambers, the journey through the endless halls of the Tower now completely known to him. Corvo knocked softly, loud enough to announce his presence, without disturbing the occupants inside. Instead of the Princess, Corvo was greeted by one of her many handmaidens, who since the death of her mother, and implications of her inevitable reign, had begun to swarm her, teaching her the life befit a ruler.

"I'm sorry, Lord Protector, but the Princess is occupied with her studies this morning. The Madame teacher requests no outside disturbances, for the Princess's sake."

The handmaiden spoke these words in a low voice, her face turned towards the ground. It was a strange sight, one he had yet not become accustomed to. He was a Lord now, technically, one to be treated with respect. Corvo waited until she raised her eyes to his before speaking.

"Of course. Tell the Madame that there'll be no more disturbances." Two sentences.

The handmaiden nodded, and quickly stepped back inside the room, leaving a pondering Corvo in the hall. _Now what?_ The Princess's chambers and silky halls were soon left behind, superseded by the dirty and dim-lit streets of the suburbs. Here, Corvo replaced his shining navy coat and polished blade with simple gray garb, and reliable steel sword. For all the beauty that there was to be seen in the capital, Corvo found he enjoyed places like these more. The simplicity to it was a welcoming change, after the sophistication and disillusioned view of the world that was to be found at Dunwall Tower. A nice cup of cold ale, good music, interesting folk. Some more interesting than others.

Free of his protectorate burdens and tasks for the day, Corvo found himself at the Ornery Holger. Mockingly named after the founder of the Abbey, the Ornery Holger was raised out of the ground with the sole purpose of pestering the Abbey and their Overseers. One of the oldest inns in Dunwall, it was a loud and rambunctious setting, but after the eerie quiet and politeness of the capital, a rowdy crowd was just what Corvo was looking for.

"Now, Princess Jessamine, the lesson of today is one of utmost importance for Dunwall and the history of the Empire, so please, at least try to pretend that you're interested."

Jessamine played with a thick strand of her hair, pulling and twirling it around her finger as she sat slumped against her desk, buried in leaflets of paper and ancient books older that looked as if they were older than Dunwall itself. Hundreds of tomes, filled with the all but forgotten knowledge of the Empire of the Isles and its history. Each one its own dull lesson that she was expected to learn and memorize, as heir to the throne.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, she gave her best fake smile, with a tone filled with mock enthusiasm.

"But I am paying attention Madame Yetta. Look."

Jessamine snatched one of the larger books that rested on her desk and opened it to a random page, grinning innocently at her instructor. The Madame shook her head, scolding her.

"Sarcasm does not befit you, young lady. Remember, you are to be…"

"Yes, yes, I am to be Empress after my father, so I must be educated in the history of the empire. But does that mean that these lessons have to be so boring?"

"Boring? Young lady, you are learning about the origins of your family, and your people. If anything, you should be excited to learn about such a topic. Need I remind you have been given a rare opportunity. The number of people who know the full extent of your Empire's history could fit in this very room."

The instructor's little speech did nothing to quell young Jessamine's dismay at the idea of spending the rest of the evening cooped up in the small chamber with nothing but the scraps of history and her aged teacher to keep her company. Not for the first time, she found herself drifting away in daydream, wondering what her Lord Protector was doing.

The sound of yelling and fighting drew Corvo's attention away from his solitary drink, and back to the real world. He brought his hood up just enough to gaze at two rather large, burly men, heaving a much smaller man out through one of the various windows, shattering the stained glass, sending it spewing everywhere, followed by a thump as the body hit the cold, hard pavement of the alley outside. The attendants hardly took notice, condemning the poor man to whatever fate has in store when dealing with the wrong men at the wrong time. The inn keep wouldn't help him either, learning long ago that if one wanted to keep his establishment, and not end up with a knife in their gut in a dark alley, some things were best left alone. Besides, men fought, especially when drunk. For many, indulging on some of the cheapest ale followed with a good clashing of fists was the perfect way to end the day.

But Corvo wasn't one of those men. Taking a final swig of whatever remained in his glass, he slipped out the inn, turning into the alley where the three men had gone. Stepping into the dark corridor, he gazed upon the two larger men threatening the smaller one, one of them holding him tight while the other held a blade to his neck. He couldn't make out their low, guttural voices, but it didn't matter to him. Corvo cleared his throat loudly, drawing their attention. Turning towards him, their eyes narrowed, as the one closest to him shouted out.

"Ey, mind yer own business. Keep walking, stranger."

He gave no response, standing completely still, blocking the exit of the alley. The two men grew impatient, dropping their victim to the ground and instead focusing entirely on Corvo.

"Didn't you hear me, little man? Keep walkin, or you'll end up like this poor fucker here."

To prove his point, the burly man that was holding the smaller one in place delivered a terrible blow to the man's stomach, causing him to collapse to the ground, clutching his stomach and crying in pain. Seeing their threats had no effect on Corvo, one of them whispered.

"I've had enough of this shit. Pound this fool, and let's get going."

Both men charged at the same time, now bearing their blades for all the world to see. But Corvo didn't wait for them to reach him, instead choosing to run at them, bundling up his cloak in his hand. As he neared them, Corvo tossed the cloak at his enemies, catching them off guard for a moment. That was all he needed. The two men were not experienced fighters, at least not against the likes of Corvo. In the matter of a few seconds, both men were disarmed and unconscious.

"And so, after the founding of the Empire, during the reign of Emperor Hurien Morgengaard in the 17th century, our beloved Abbey of the Everyman rose in Dunwall. Now tell me, who was the original founder of the Abbey? Jessamine?"

Once again, the teacher's words fell on deaf ears, as she raised her eyes from her text to see Jessamine with her back turned to her. Almost shocked, at the lack of respect, Madame Yetta slammed her book down on the table, startling the young girl.

"Princess Jessamine, what do you think you're doing?" She called out, trying to keep her patience.

The little princess turned around in her chair with a different book in her hands, with her usual look of complete innocence. The teacher sighed.

"At least you're reading. Which book is that?"

Jessamine flipped the book closed, which revealed nothing but a worn-out, red cover, with markings or title of any kind. Curious, Madame Yetta reached for it, taking it from Jessamine's hands. Flipping to the first page, she let out a gasp.

"This…this is a diary. Of the assassins who killed Empress Olaskir." Her surprised expression quickly turned to scorn. "Where did you find this?"

Jessamine eyed her with a sheepish gaze. "I just found it, lying around. Sooo, what exactly happened? Why'd they want to kill the Empress?"

Madame Yetta was still staring somewhat horror-struck at the idea that this girl had stumbled on part of the Empire's darkest years. An age of insurrection, chaos, and absolute terror. Very few remembered much, if anything from those years, instead, like true politicians, preferring to ignore that period of time in the Empire's history. And now, she had to explain it to this little girl, the Princess, and future Empress.

Clearing her throat, she thought carefully on her next words. "Well, long ago, before your father became Emperor, the Empire was ruled by the Olaskir dynasty." She paused, deep in thought. "In the year 1801, the island of Morley…rebelled against the Empress."

"Morley?" Jessamine whispered, eyes widening.

"Yes, the Isle of Morley." Yetta eyed her young student, trying to get a read on her emotions.

"Why did they rebel?"

She racked her brain for possible answers. "No one truly knows. Power, most likely. Or independence. Since the formation of the Empire, Morley hasn't been exactly thrilled with the notion of being ruled by an Emperor or Empress from a foreign land."

Jessamine nodded, processing all the information with a look of curiosity and fascination.

"And as I was saying, in the year 1801, a small group of Morley assassins infiltrated Gristol through its sewer system, made their way through Dunwall, and killed Empress Larisa Olaskir, thus ending the Olaskir dynasty."

The teacher smiled to see Jessamine's obvious interest. Closing her book, she rose from the desk, returning the sacred journal to its proper place.

"Now, I'm afraid that will conclude today's lesson. But listen to me, Jessamine. You mustn't tell your father what you learned today, ok? The rebellion…is a bit of a sensitive subject here in Dunwall. Got it?"

Jessamine nodded her head, giving her a wide smile, then began exiting the room. Before she reached the door, Madame Yetta called out to her.

"See? Sometimes, history can be interesting."

Corvo stood over the young man who not ten seconds ago had a blade against his throat by the two gangsters now lying unconscious on the floor. Catching his breath, he looked up at his savior, exhaling loudly.

"Ah, thank you. If you hadn't decided to show up, well…"

"What did they want?" Corvo interrupted the man midsentence.

The stranger eyed Corvo wearily. "Not from around here, are you?" When met by silence, he continued. "Ah, fuck it." The man walked over to the two bodies, pointing out their matching colors and tattoos. "See that?"

"Bottlestreet Gang." Corvo whispered.

He nodded. "Exactly. The Bottlestreet Gang's been terrorizing this neighborhood for weeks now. Patrols used to come down here, but ever since the Empress died, most of those soldiers have gone to fortifying and protecting the Tower." He gestured once more to the gang members. "These two fellows, along with maybe a dozen more no-good low lifers began extorting people, making us pay protection money just so that we wouldn't wake up in the morning and find our homes on fire."

Puffing up his chest, he smiled.

"I refused to pay their fee, instead organizing a small group of guys to try and deal with these criminals. Unfortunately, once we got caught, we were scattered to the wind. I was laying low in the bar, until those two assholes found me. And then, well, they found you."

Corvo watched the man carefully. He listened to his tale with growing interest, yet refusing to give away anything, maintaining a blank gaze. Much to his new companion's discomfort.

"So…what do they call you?"

"What?"

"You just saved my life, and I don't even know your name."

"Oh. Corvo."

The man beamed, extending his hand towards him. Corvo shook it, surprised by the man's firm grip.

"Curnow. Geoff Curnow. Thanks again, for saving my life."

Corvo nodded, then turned to leave the stinking alley, but was stopped as Geoff clasped his arm.

"Wait, you saved my skin. Let me at least buy you a drink." Geoff grinned, holding his arms out wide. "Huh? C'mon, waddaya say?"

The sun had almost set when Corvo and Geoff stumbled out of the inn, the effects of the strong alcohol consumed slowly wearing off. They wandered through the streets, exchanging laughs and loud words. But their fun and laughter was interrupted by the communal clock's chime echoing through the streets, signaling the nearing of the end of that day.

"Ah, Corvo, it's been fun. You know, when I first saw you, I thought 'oh boy, this guy's got a stick up his ass', but, you do know how to let loose, my friend."

Corvo laughed, feeling free for the first time in quite a while. After months in Dunwall Tower, with every word being listened to, every movement being recorded, along with all the duties and responsibilities of being the Lord Protector, it was nice to get out and be able to act as a nobody, as just one of the countless drifters that find their way into the city.

"Yeah, it was something. Been a while since I've had a good laugh." Corvo replied.

Yet just like everything in life, the fun had to come to an end. Corvo had duties to return to, a future Empress to protect. He contemplated his next words closely.

"Look, Curnow, there's a reason you recognized my name. I didn't want to tell you earlier, especially with the whole bar watching, but you've earned the truth. I'm actually…"

"You're the Lord Protector, I know." Geoff broke in midsentence, laughing at Corvo's look of astonishment. "What? It was kind of obvious. First off, the way you fight, no one, and I mean no one, moves that fast, unless you're the famed Serkonan Lord Protector. Secondly, most of us know who and what our own Lord Protector looks like. We saw you take the title."

Corvo was still stunned by the sudden outburst. Gathering his words, he spoke.

"Why didn't you say anything before? If you knew who I was, why not just tell everyone?"

"Pshh, come on. You looked like you needed a break from all that publicity. Besides, if you didn't tell anyone that you were the Lord Protector, I don't see how it's any of my business informing them otherwise."

"I…thanks." Corvo muttered, slightly embarrassed.

"Don't mention it. You did save my life. It was the least I could do."

An idea sprung into Corvo's mind. Before reason could silence him, he blurted out.

"How would you like a job?"

Geoff, who up to that moment, had been picking his teeth with his nails, raised his eyebrows.

"Say what now?"

"How would you like a position as part of the City Guard? From what you told me, you seem pretty adamant about keeping some kind of order, and you obviously care about the city's citizens. So, what do you say?"

The sudden proposition silenced Geoff. Leaning against a wall, he slowly stroked his chin, humming to himself. After a few moments, between the approaching after-effects of the consumed drinks from earlier and waiting for an answer, Corvo felt his patience growing thin.

Then, Geoff answered. "I'll take it. At least as part of the City Watch I'd be able to actually do something useful, instead of getting thrown out of bar windows. Thanks, Corvo."

At that point, the two parted ways. Corvo reached the foot of Dunwall Tower, casting aside the disguise he had put on for the day before returning to the comfort of his navy-blue robes. He stepped into Dunwall Tower, returning to the job destined to be his life.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter X

Soft, incessant taps woke her from her gentle slumber. At first she ignored it, pulling a pillow over her ears in an attempt to drown out the noise, but as it continued, she knew it wouldn't stop anytime soon. Groggily pushing the blankets aside, Jessamine rubbed the sleep from her eyes to get a glimpse at the source of the disturbance. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, they made out the faint outline of a solitary figure crouched at the foot of her window balcony. Now rising from the comfort of her warm, inviting bed, her eyes widened in surprise as she saw clearly the unexpected intruder.

"Corvo?"

It must have been louder than she had intended, because at the sound of his name, Corvo held a gloved finger to his mouth, indicating silence. Still slightly confused, she unlocked the window, letting the night breeze sweep through the chamber. Shivering as the cold began to set in, Jessamine took a good look at the still kneeling Corvo. Dressed in all black attire, she almost didn't recognize him, had he not removed the thin cloth covering his mouth and nose. Slung over his shoulder was also a small bag, its contents a mystery.

"Corvo? What's going on? Has something happened?" She whispered, growing concern showing on her face.

Guarding his silence, he pointed at her clothes, motioning for her to get dressed.

"Come. I've got something to show you."

She took a second to dress herself in similar attire to his, a mixture of comfortable but stylish outfit fit for most excursions. Such as this strange and sudden one. She was still quite puzzled by Corvo's vague and unforeseen appearance, but Jessamine trusted him. Waiting for her to close the window behind her, Corvo revealed a rope fastened to her balcony, leading down towards the outskirts of Dunwall Tower. In a single motion, he vaulted over the railing of the balcony, and slid swiftly down the rope. Jessamine had a bit of a tougher time. Trying her best to make as little noise as possible, she struggled over the railing, then taking a deep breath and grasping onto the rope, made her way down slowly. The climb was higher than expected, and as she neared the bottom, Jessamine felt her arms begin to lose their grip. Jessamine stifled a scream as the rope's knot gave way, and she began falling what looked at least a couple stories high. Just as she began anticipating the agonizing pain of hitting the ground, Jessamine felt a premature connection as she collided with something else. Corvo, breathing heavily, had caught her only moments before she would have hit the ground. Holding her gently in his warm arms, he struggled to give her a thin smile.

"You alright, Princess?"

She simply nodded, words refusing to form in her mouth. Placing her down, Corvo motioned for her to get down, as he lowered his stance. She heard the unmistakable sound of booted footsteps on the stoned pavement approaching them. A lonely guard, who probably heard the commotion, walked over to investigate the strange sound. All Jessamine could do was watch Corvo, and hope that the sound of her rapidly beating heart wouldn't give them away. Yet as usual, Corvo remained calm and collected, keeping an eye on the clearing, ready to pounce into action should the moment require it. She could see as his eyebrows furrowed, until his eyes were only small slits, his jaw locking in concentration.

Since becoming her Lord Protector, she had begun to realize that Corvo's non-talkative attitude was not in fact, attributed to some form of shyness. He was just a quiet person, preferring to reserve his words until the moment required it, keeping to his silence that she had grown so comfortably in. So instead, Jessamine learned to read his body movements. At first they were small things, like how he crossed his arms when annoyed, or scratching his clean-shaven cheek when something of interest came up.

Now, she could tell that Corvo wasn't worried, just prepared. His body language indicated nothing but serene concentration at the task at hand. Which in this moment, was to not get caught by the very guards usually tasked in protecting her.

The investigating guard left as soon as he came, taking a quick look to make sure there wasn't any obvious or notable intrusions before moving on with his patrol. Realizing she had been holding her breath the whole time, Jessamine exhaled, looking up at her escort for the night.

Once they made it past the wall, and the rest of the security around the Tower, Corvo shed off his black attire, revealing gray garments, and pulling out from the sac on his shoulder, a pair of brown travel cloaks, as protection from the biting night cold. Jessamine took one of them from his hand, slipping the thick warm cloak on over her black clothing. Making their way to the stables, Corvo revealed two chestnut-gray mares, which appeared to be saddled and ready to go. Still unsure of where exactly he was taking her, at that point Jessamine decided that she had had enough. She trusted Corvo, with her live, and she would never believe that he would do anything that would put her at risk, but all she wanted were straight up answers.

"Wait Corvo."

Corvo, who had been checking the stirrups on both horses, running his hand through their hair, turned to face her. She swallowed.

"Where are we going? What is going on?"

Corvo gave her the same answer as before.

"There's something I want to show you."

Shaking her head, she crossed her arms, staring him down.

"That's not good enough. Look Corvo, it's the middle of the night, its cold, we snuck out of the Tower, I almost fell and hurt myself, and you're not giving me any answers."

Corvo looked around, nervous that someone had heard them. Sighing, he said.

"Look, as I said, there's something I want to show you. Something I found. But…I'd prefer if it was a surprise." He met her eyes. "Please, Princess. Trust me. It'll be worth it in the end, I promise. And then you can go back to bed, without me bothering you."

Unable to deny Corvo that sense of trust, she caved.

"Fine Corvo. But this better be worth it."

That brought a smile to his face. He helped her onto her horse before jumping on his own, softly whistling to the horse, spurring it forward. Once he felt the coast was clear, he beckoned to Jessamine, who followed. Together, they rode out of the populated city, and towards the outskirts of the city, to the wide, grassy frontier that outlined the northern coast.

It felt as though they had ridden for a couple hours before Corvo began to slow down. Jessamine's eyelids had already begun to grow heavy, and more than once she had caught herself falling asleep in the saddle. Luckily, her horse had the common sense to stay behind Corvo's horse, and she hadn't strayed too far from him. Yawning, she asked.

"How much longer, Corvo?"

Without looking back, he answered.

"We're close."

Already knowing the answer, she rolled her eyes, feeling a sense of annoyance growing. She was about to speak out again, when Corvo interrupted her.

"We're here."

It wasn't much. A small, solitary wood cottage, hanging over the cliff, looking out towards the sea. It looked as if there had been recent repairs in an attempt to make it more cozy, more of a livable environment. It definitely wasn't much.

"This is it?" She proclaimed, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

Corvo didn't answer, guiding the horses to a small corral off to the side, securely hitching them before entering the cabin. She reluctantly followed.

Inside was a different story. Everything was new, entirely renovated for a comfortable lifestyle. Candles were lit up in all corners, illuminating maps and drawings of the ocean and the stars. Jessamine found its simplicity appealing, drawing her in to explore every part of the little room. But the greatest part of it was the view. The wall facing the ocean had been entirely torn down, exposing the sea in its entirety. She sat on the floor, marveling at the beauty of the naked ocean, undisturbed by the city lights and pollution, or endless whaling metal ships infesting the bleak waters. Jessamine had seen the ocean before, after all Gristol was an island. But something about being able to gaze upon the ocean as it was created, with no human presence or interference, astonished her. A warm hand grasped her shoulder.

"There's more."

In his hand, Corvo held a small wooden telescope, newly made. Extending his hand, he offered it to her.

"Look out there. Towards the ocean."

Bringing the telescope to her eye, she peered through the glass at the smooth ocean. At first, there was nothing but the soft lull of the waves, but suddenly she caught a glimpse of a splash in the water. Gasping, she peered closer, able to see faint outlines of something underneath the water. Then, they appeared.

The whales surfaced one at a time, first the smaller children, the size of a carriage, soon followed by their parents. They were large, magnificent creatures, their glistening white hides reflecting the light of the shining moon, painting an almost spectral scene. Jessamine gasped slightly when the first of the whales opened up their blowholes to release a gust of air and water, droplets cascading through the air in all directions. Moving the telescope, she followed the younger whales, who had begun to splash and play innocently on the ocean's surface, as carefree as only children can be, as the adults swam gracefully, communicating to themselves.

It was such a pleasant and astonishing view. The sight of whales was usually followed by the smell of their rotting flesh as dock-workers moved to remove their natural sourced oil that had so quickly become a precious commodity throughout the island. So rarely now were whales seen alive, and certainly not in such high quantity. She reveled in the sight, taking it all in, a hint of sadness melting her heart as she knew it might possibly be the last time she see something of this marvel. Looking away from the pleasant surprise, Jessamine turned to Corvo.

"It's beautiful Corvo."

He smiled. "I thought you'd like it."

Still, a nagging thought clung in the back of her head.

"But…why all the secrecy? Wouldn't it have just been easier to go in the middle of the day, and just say we are going for a ride? Why didn't you just tell me?"

"What, and ruin the surprise?" Pausing, he rubbed his tired eyes. "Besides, I thought you'd appreciate the little adventure. You've been so occupied with your studies of late, I thought that you could do with a break, at least for this special occasion."

His eyes glistened, the small smile still on his face.

"Happy birthday, Jessamine."

 **A/N: Two chapters in the same month? Oh my god, it's a miracle!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter XI

The Tyvian stranger stepped carefully off the boat, his long, dark coat flapping in the morning wind. Most of his face was covered by a thin scarf, and a matching hat, exposing a pair of beady black eyes, darting from left to right, wary of their surroundings. He focused on the navy blue uniforms, identifying three Gristol guards as they made their way down the dock and towards him. The leading soldier, a freshly faced Geoff Curnow, with a smile on his face, offered his hand to the traveler.

"Welcome, Mr. Sokolov. I hope your voyage was well. If you would like…"

Curnow's smile turned to an expression of bewilderment as the Tyvian known as the famous Anton Sokolov walked right by him and his men, waving a hand impatiently through the air.

"The trip was long and tiring. Now, grab my bags, and show me to my chamber. The sooner I get out of this dreadful cold and into a warm bath the better."

Met with silence, Sokolov turned back to the stunned men, giving them an angry stare.

"Well? Are you waiting for something?"

The smile disappeared from Geoff's face, shaking his head as he ordered his men to grab the plethora of luggage that the strange Tyvian brought with him.

* * *

Seated snugly on one of the lookout towers, Corvo eyed the whole ordeal from above and out of sight. He had heard quite a bit about this Anton Sokolov. A Tyvian refugee, who had started his life out as a painter of aristocracy, quickly making his name known to all who had the coin to pay for his expensive services. Yet there was no denying the man's talent. He was an exquisite artist, a master with the paint and brush, with no equal. Of course, that was not all that Sokolov excelled in. Once the initial joy of painting began to fade, the Tyvian turned to philosophy and science, turning out to be a natural in that field as well. But, once Corvo learned that the Emperor had decided to send for the master painter and philosopher, he began to dig a bit deeper into the life of the strange man. Soon, secrets and rumors came to light, those that many yet did not know. Aside from his day job of painting nobility, Sokolov had a darker side to him. Aside from being a well-known drunk, he was also quite the womanizer, using his access to the houses of aristocrats to pursue that ambition, whether it be with the servants, maids, or the local whores.

There was one thing Corvo was certain of. This was a man that he would need to keep his eye on.

As Sokolov and his Gristol escort approached Dunwall Tower, Corvo made his way down his hideout to get a closer look. He followed Sokolov through the halls of the Tower, watching him enter his room and dismiss the guards with another wave of his hand. Waiting until the guards had left the scene, and the Tyvian had closed the door to his chamber, Corvo revealed himself. Approaching the solid oak door, he knocked softly. A groan erupted from the other side of the door, followed by approaching footsteps.

"What now? Didn't I tell you I need my rest?" The voice spoke, muffled by the walls surrounding it.

The door opened to Corvo, and he was able to get his first glimpse up close at Anton Sokolov. He had a thin, oval shaped face, covered by light stubble from the voyage. With his eyebrows knit tightly into a scowl, followed with the sharp, angular nose, his face gave the impression of being in a state of constant annoyance, or disappointment. The small, dark eyes looked over Corvo, changing from anger to curiosity.

"Well well, the Serkonan Lord Protector. I've heard of you." Anton spoke, with an analytical gaze.

"And I of you, Anton Sokolov."

"Yes, yes, quite a bit in fact. Word of the Serkonan who arrived at Dunwall and quickly turned himself into the future Lord Protector of our young Princess has traveled far."

"Well, my reputation is nothing compared to yours. The Tyvian immigrant, who made his name known through the entire Empire as a renowned painter and sculptor of nobles, and soon after turned to the wonders of science and philosophy, only to streamline the use of whale oil as a new source of energy. Word travels fast."

Sokolov gave a small grin.

"Bah, you haven't heard anything yet, boy. I've got big plans for the future of this Empire, just you wait and see. But now, what brings you to my room?"

"I just wished to offer my welcome to Dunwall, and if you had any concerns, or needs, to let me know."

The Tyvian rubbed his chin, feeling at the stubble, appearing in deep thought.

"Hmm, you're not a noble, are you?"

If the question surprised Corvo, he didn't show it.

"No."

Sokolov nodded, giving another grin.

"I could tell. Most aristocrats can spew fake courtesy and bullshit greetings through every pore in their body. You, you're too honest. I can see it on your face."

Corvo stood still, trying to keep a straight face as Sokolov continued to finger at his stubble.

"That's good." He leaned in closer to Corvo. "I hate aristocrats."

At that, Sokolov slammed the door of his room in Corvo's face, leaving him alone in the corridor, with the sound of Sokolov's humming slowly retreating.

Yes, the Tyvian was a strange man indeed.

* * *

The next time Corvo sat face to face with Anton Sokolov, they were not alone. A few days after his arrival, Emperor Euhorn invited the painter to a private dinner, consisting of the Emperor, the Princess Jessamine, and of course, Corvo himself. Of course, there were also the multiple servants bringing platers lined with delicious delicacies, topping off the wine cups to ensure they were always full, and tending to whatever other items the Emperor and his guests required. Aside from the servants, guards stood in various corners of the room, hidden from the light in failed attempts to conceal themselves, hands never leaving the hilts of their weapons. By the royal family's standards, this was indeed considered a "private" dinner, but in truth it was far from it.

The dinner began with simple courtesies, as the Emperor inquired on Sokolov's journey, along with a proposition to have his likeness painted by the artist. Corvo, keeping in mind the departing words that the Tyvian left him with, watched and listened as Sokolov answered the Emperor's questions with calm but curt responses, fitting his sentences in between large bites of food, and his lustful gazes at the approaching female servants.

"Forgive me if I what I ask is put bluntly, your Majesty." Sokolov spoke.

The Emperor washed down his meal with a sip.

"Please, by all means, speak bluntly. I admire those who can speak their mind without tip toeing around a subject."

"Your message to me implied some sense of importance and urgency. Why am I here, your Majesty? I don't believe you sent for me from the other side of the Empire just to have me paint your picture."

The question asked exactly what Corvo had been thinking himself. He put his knife and fork down, awaiting Emperor Euhorn's answer.

The Emperor looked seriously at Anton Sokolov, dabbing the edges of his mouth with a napkin.

"Yes, you're right. I was planning to wait a few more days, until you were a bit more comfortable and properly settled in before asking, but I see that isn't exactly an option anymore. I am sure you are more than aware of the fame following your name. Masterful painter. Rising to the top of the Academy of Natural Philosophy. Pioneer of whale oil. So, taking into account all your past successes, I have a proposition for you."

Corvo eyed the tense staredown between the Emperor and Sokolov, studying their expressions for anything that might betray any false intentions.

"I am prepared to offer you the position of Royal Physician. Its role has stood vacant in the royal family for a while now, but I believe it is now time to reinstate someone, someone well qualified and ambitious. I would like to point out that Dunwall Tower is filled with a variety of supplies and ingredients from all over the Isles, so you would never be lacking. We also have many young students who could serve as assistants if the need arises."

When Sokolov didn't answer immediately, the Emperor reiterated.

"This is entirely your choice. By no means am I forcing you to take this offer, nor will I order you. I will wholeheartedly accept whatever decision you come to, with no consequences to either answer."

At this point, Sokolov cleared his throat, snapping out of his daze.

"Your Majesty, you honor me greatly. To take up the role of Royal Physician is a widely recognizable achievement. Nothing would bring me greater joy. And yet…"

He interrupted his decision with a swig of wine, downing the entire glass in one gulp before continuing.

"Yet I am a wanderer at heart. Part of the joy of life is being able to travel where and when it pleases me, without the constrictions of responsible employment. Besides, I still have work to do at the Academy of Natural Philosophy. I'm afraid it's just not an opportune moment to accept such a humbling proposition."

Sokolov spoke like a true professional. For a man who detested nobility down to his core, he shamelessly threw himself at the feet of those very men, indulging in their overgrowing ego and pride. Or perhaps this time it was genuine politeness. After all, conversing with the Emperor after being offered one of the most important jobs in the Empire wasn't the same as meeting a random noble for a painting or sculpture. Corvo mulled over these thoughts in his head during the confrontation between Sokolov and Emperor Euhorn.

If the Emperor was disappointed, he hid that disappointment well, instead grasping a recently filled glass, directing himself towards his dining companion, with a smile on his lips.

"I am sorry to hear that. But, as I said, that is your choice to make. But for your politeness, and for arriving at my behest on such quick notice, I thank you. And hope that, at some point during your visit, will at least still find the time to indulge in your other talents, and paint me a portrait worthy of an Emperor."

With that, he rose his glass high in the air.

"I would like to propose a toast. To you, Anton Sokolov. May your journeys take you far and wide, and win you the fame and glory you so richly deserve."

* * *

Anton Sokolov had just begun to pack his things when he heard a small knock on his door. Expecting to see either the Emperor, or the Lord Protector even, the Tyvian was surprised when he was confronted by a young girl. It took him a moment to recognize her, even though he had spent the last week painting a family portrait with her and her father. The Princess, Jessamine Kaldwin. Sokolov shook aside his surprise.

"Princess. I was not expecting you."

She gazed around the room, looking at the recently prepared bags.

"You're leaving?"

"Yes, it' about time. I've got things I need to finish."

Sokolov watched the girl, confused. She wandered around the room, opening her mouth as to say something, then closing it without a word. It got to a point where his patience began to wear thin, and his famous temper began to slowly emerge.

"Look Princess, does your father know you're here, bugging me? Because if you hadn't noticed, I am trying to pack. Now please, say whatever it is you need to say, and let me be."

He almost regretted his harshness as the Princess's expression changed to one of shocked, almost hurt. But finally, she spoke.

"Tell me about the Outsider."

Now it was Sokolov's turn to be surprised.

"What?"

At this point, she began to open up.

"When I was learning the history of the Abbey of the Everyman, my instructor taught me about the Seven Strictures, about the Holy Order. Then they mentioned the Outsider. My instructor didn't talk much about the subject, mainly because they didn't know, but, I heard that you on the other hand…"

Sokolov exchanged his surprised expression to his usual scowl.

"Did you now? And who, pray tell, did you hear that from?"

She gave him a mischievous grin.

"A girl's gotta have some secrets."

His mind now up and running, he looked over the young girl. Her eyes had seen much pain, he could tell that much. Unlike most young noble girls, who preferred to spend their days surrounded by their handmaidens, talking of their male suitors and whatnot, Jessamine chose a different path. Sokolov noticed the constant presence of the Lord Protector at her side, her focus on studies of the Empire's past. Of course, knowing that someday she would have to rule the Empire in its entirety would take its toll on any young one.

Now his thoughts drifted to her unusual question. The Outsider? Why was she even interested? As far as he knew, the Abbey openly loathed the Outsider's very presence, naming it as a demon, or an evil force. Most knew better than to ask about it. Yet here Jessamine was, defying the rules set by her own empire.

And of course Anton Sokolov knew of the Outsider. Since his youth, when he had first learned of the mysterious presence that watched over the world in its entirety, he had been obsessed with it. He had stolen, cheated, and purchased every bit of information available on this strange Outsider, studying them with fervent ambition, hoping that one day, the Outsider itself would grant Sokolov the audience he searched for.

"What do you want to know?" He chose his words carefully.

"Who is the Outsider?"

A simple question, in its own right. But its answer being infinitely more complicated. Sokolov racked his mind for the best response.

"The Outsider…well, if the myths and legends are true, they say that the Outsider was once a man, like any other. But gifted in ways that no other before him was. At some point in the man's life, he was absorbed by the Void, and endless and eternal dimension parallel to ours, yet unseen by all except for him. Are you following along?"

Jessamine nodded, eyes widened, fully absorbed in the tale.

"Well, soon after the man's unity with the Void, he became the Outsider. See, unlike the nonsensical dribble the Overseers spew, the Outsider is not a figure of evil. From what we know, the Outsider is more of a neutral figure, who rarely interferes with our mortal world directly. Although, there have been rumors of those visited by the Outsider, certain individuals who, by reasons still unknown, have been chosen by this crafty entity, and who he then reveals himself to them."

"Has the Outsider ever visited you?"

Sokolov's eyebrows furrowed even deeper. He felt a sense of anger and disappointment rising through his body as his thoughts drew to the countless failed attempts at summoning the mysterious figure. He had slaved away for days, performing all kinds of forbidden rituals and summoning's, just to leave him empty handed. Turning his head towards the floor, he answered.

"No. I have not been one of the lucky few. Although…"

"Although?'

"In some cases, the Outsider can interact with individuals indirectly, through their dreams. There can be signs, specific images conjured up…"

There was a slight change in the atmosphere of the room, the air filled with an almost metallic taste, as it grew thicker. The lights dimmed, darkening the chamber.

Jessamine spoke, in a voice that a mixture of her own, and another.

"Images of the Captain at the Helm, and the Tusked Leviathan?"

The strange evening packed on even more surprises for the Tyvian. How had this girl, with absolutely no knowledge or exposure to the Outsider, suddenly be able to see the very dreams that had been following him every night? He struggled to respond, still in shock.

"Y…yes, like that." He blinked. "How?"

"Have you thought that maybe you're not interesting enough?" The voice whispered once more.

To that he had no response, staring at the young Princess. Sokolov didn't even realize when the air had cleared, and the light had returned to normal. He was focusing intently on Jessamine. She yawned, as if nothing had happened.

"I'm sorry, Lord Sokolov, but I'm very tired. Thank you for the story. It was very…interesting."

He still could not believe the events that had just transpired. Had the Outsider finally shown himself to Sokolov through this girl? Whatever it was, he knew that the presence that entered Jessamine was no longer there, and he would learn nothing new from her now.

"Of…of course, Princess." As she moved to leave the room, he called out to her. "Princess Jessamine. If you ever want to talk, about the Outsider, there is plenty more to learn."

She smiled, then left through the door. Sokolov poked his head out, watching her walk down the corridor, until she left his sight.

Coming from the other end of the hallway, was Corvo. Sokolov called him over, much to the Lord Protector's surprise.

"Ah Corvo, there you are. I have a message to the Emperor, please make sure to deliver it to him. Tell his Majesty that I accept his offer, and will gladly serve as the Royal Physician. Do that for me, will you Corvo?"

Corvo stood silent, raising an eyebrow, but nodded, and turned to inform Emperor Euhorn of Sokolov's change of heart.

* * *

Jessamine lay down alone in her bed. Her thoughts drew back to her conversation with Anton Sokolov, and their talk of the Outsider. It was strange, she couldn't remember why she had wanted to ask him in the first place.

Suddenly her head grew heavy, and a metallic taste filled her mouth. Then, she heard a soft voice utter a single sentence, with clarity and calmness she found herself frozen in fear.

"When the last leviathan is gone, darkness will fall."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** **As per a suggestion, I would like to point out that the past few chapters have been taking place in between Jessamine's 12-15 years of age. In this chapter I would say she is around 15 years old, just as a reference point to you, the reader. Also, a more lighthearted chapter, to counter some of the seriousness of past chapters, and for the future chapters to come.**

 **The reviews are appreciated, and I thank you for your kind words even after weeks of not updating. If any of you have suggestions or tips, don't hesitate. I'm always looking to improve on this story, to make it as good as I possibly can.**

Chapter XII

The sun had almost reached its peak, shining brightly in the hot summer sky. It spread its warmth far and wide, from the highest point of Dunwall Tower, to the darkest alleys of the inner city. All could cherish from its showers of golden light, and the tender touch of the heat. In a world ruled by greed and corruption, the sun was the only incorruptible source, the only guarantee in the harsh plane of existence humans called their world.

Jessamine felt that very same incorruptible source of pure energy, as she carefully scaled the wall of Dunwall Tower. Beads of sweat began to form on her forehead, giving off a slight tickling sensation as they slid down her cheek. Grunting with effort, she made a final push, and clasped her hands firmly on the solid railing, pulling herself towards safety. Taking a moment to wipe her face clean, she eyed the courtyard, making sure her little stunt went unnoticed. Satisfied, Jessamine directed her attention to the window of the balcony she had put so much effort into reaching. A quick look inside was enough to dissipate the exhaustion and bring out a smile.

Inside the room, completely unaware of the eavesdropper, Corvo lay, reclined back on the chair at his desk, fast asleep and surrounded by papers. Jessamine made her way through the window and into his chambers, trying not to disturb the sleeping occupant. Unable to hold back a grin, she surveyed his desk, then snatched one of the large, unopened tomes. Lifting it as high as she could, Jessamine dropped the book, letting it fall loudly onto the table. It landed on the table with a loud and gratifying _thud_ , disrupting the gentle silence that rested over the room.

She watched between giggles of amusement as Corvo jumped suddenly from his chair, blade drawn, scattering the endless papers all throughout the floor. Although the only sound he made was a sharp exhale, his eyes bulged out, filled with confusion, as he breathed heavily, clutching his sword in one hand, and the armrest of the chair tightly with the other.

Then he saw her. Grabbing her stomach, crying tears of pure entertainment as she gasped for air in between bouts of laughter. Trying his best to maintain some sense of composure, Corvo sheepishly put his weapon away, straightening out his coat, focusing his intense gaze on the young prankster. Still, he quickly caved in, allowing himself a slight chuckle alongside Jessamine, who was slowly recovering.

"Must've been quite a sight." Corvo said.

At this point, the laughter was coming to an end, and Jessamine flashed him a large smile.

"Oh, a sight indeed. You should've seen your face!" She mimicked his expression of surprise, drawing her eyebrows closely together in a thin scowl, lips forming a frown. Yet her composure soon broke as giggles erupted once more at the mere thought of her Lord Protector's almost frightened state.

"Alright, enough of that." He spoke, bending down to recover his day's work that had been so carelessly scattered across the rugged floor.

"What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have lessons with Madame Yetta?"

At the mention of her classes, she gave him a mischievous look.

"What, do I need a reason to visit my noble Lord Protector?"

Corvo gave her a questioning look.

Sighing, she continued.

"Fine. Well…since Father is away this whole week on some diplomatic visit to Outsider knows where, I thought maybe we could…go exploring?"

Jessamine watched Corvo stop at his task, dropping whatever papers he had in his hand on his desk.

"Exploring? And your classes?"

"Oh please, I'm sure missing one day of class won't be the end of the world. I'm sure Madame Yetta would like having the day off. Then again, it doesn't seem like she has anything better to do." Pausing, she pleaded once more.

"Please Corvo? I'm dying of boredom being stuck in this tower all day with nothing to do but being surrounded by a bunch of old people! I want to see the city, walk around, do something else other than learn about dead people's mistakes and the proper way to hold a fork and knife at the dinner table."

Avoiding her eyes, Corvo looked over at the massive workload now sitting on the desk, waiting for him.

"Jessamine, it's not that simple. You're the Princess, and future Empress. There are things you have to learn, like how to rule. Besides, the city isn't the countryside. It can be a dangerous place, especially to Empresses."

At that response, she beamed.

"That's why I'll be accompanied by you, the greatest swordsman in the Empire. With you by my side, I'll be as safe as ever. And come on, don't tell me you want to waste your day reading over all those reports and patrol letters."

Finally, Corvo gave in, pushing aside the slips of paper and turning towards her.

"You have the tongue of a true diplomat, you know that? Let me get changed, and we'll go."

After donning his usual outside clothing, Corvo made a move for the main door, only to be stopped by Jessamine. She wagged her finger, then pointed to the window, rope appearing in her other hand.

Corvo smiled, releasing his grip on the doorknob, and opening the gateway to the balcony, letting his protégé climber exit first before securing the widow behind them.

* * *

Jessamine couldn't have picked a more beautiful day to go into the city. By the time they made their way out of the secluded Tower, and into the heart of Dunwall, it had reached midday, the sun shining brightly in the clear, blue sky. Crowds of people wandered through the paved streets, watchful parents eyeing their kids, friends talking and laughing over soft drinks, couples strolling slowly with hands locked. The vibrancy was astonishing.

The sheer contrast from the dull, bleakness of Dunwall Tower shocked her. Of course, it wasn't her first time visiting the Empire's capital city, but all the other times she come as a Princess, surrounded by a large enough escort wide enough to cover up the entire width of the street. This time, she was just another common girl, enjoying the sights with her protective companion.

She turned to Corvo, who seemed just as engrossed as she was, eyes jumping from view to view. Years in her Tower had left the both of them starved for company and entertainment, doubly so ever since the harsh realization that Jessamine would have to someday rule over all of this, and more.

"So, what do you want to do, Corvo?" Jessamine beamed, drawing his attention away from a group of teens who had just erupted into laughter over some silly joke neither one of them overheard.

A look of confusion appeared on his face.

"I…well…" He managed to save himself by adding, "Well, last I checked, it was your idea to come here, so…"Corvo said, shifting the choice over to her.

"Hmm. I want it to be something special. Memorable." Her thoughts drifted as she tried to recall any details from her geography lessons. Suddenly, it came to her.

"I know! If I remember correctly, there should be a park nearby. Let's go check it out, yeah?"

"As her Majesty wishes." Corvo jested, mockingly bowing his head.

Ignoring Corvo's foolishness, Jessamine moved on, excitement clutching her as she alternated between a brisk walk and playfully skipping, occasionally turning around just to make sure Corvo was still behind her. As the two neared the park, Jessamine caught the faint sound of music, and laughter.

Gasping, she urged Corvo forward.

"Do you hear that? Music!" Her walking quickly turned into running, as she followed the joyful sound. "Hurry up Corvo!"

Soon enough, Jessamine found the park. And source for the pleasant sounds. In the middle of the park, there was a large congregation of people dancing and singing and drinking. Jessamine gasped as she realized what she had stumbled upon. A wedding.

Corvo quickly caught up with the young princess, opening his mouth to say a comment about staying close to him when he saw it as well. Dozens of people, laughing and playing around in the center of the park.

"Corvo, look, it's a wedding!" He nodded, watching as she took off in the direction of the crowd, eyes widening. Instead of joining her, Corvo chose to watch from a distance, as the group of people beckoned her forward to join them in the dance of happiness and enjoyment. The image brought a smile to his face, seeing the joyful young teenager that Jessamine had grown into, despite the grim and harshness of her childhood.

A bright red leaf landed on Corvo's head, shaking him from the past and back into the present. The beauty of the park itself was too intense to be passed by, and Corvo found himself soaking in every detail of it. As the long summer began reaching its end, the leaves on the trees acted as the harbingers of the coming winter, the once vigorous green color that populated the area quickly replaced by the serene, tranquil red and brown.

But that did not mean that nature had lost its beauty. Quite the opposite, much like the calm before the coming storm, the clash and mixture of fall's colors painted a picture of delicacy and grace that could not be brought out in any other way.

Much like that unparalleled delicacy and grace, was the congregation of humans that stood before him. The celebration of uniting two people, binding them in love, was a sight like no other. A sight that he would soon help celebrate, as he eyed Jessamine breaking away from the crowd and moving towards him, grinning from ear to ear.

"Dance with me."

The abrupt jolted Corvo from his philosophical state.

"What?"

Jessamine held out her hand.

"Come dance with me, Corvo."

He stammered, unsure on how to respond.

"I…don't dance."

She laughed. "Come on Corvo, it'll be fun, I promise."

Corvo didn't respond.

Sighing, Jessamine spoke. "I've seen you fight Corvo. You're not exactly clumsy when it comes to footwork. If you can move the way you do while fighting, I'm sure you can do a simple dance. Besides," She added. "I'm not leaving until you do."

Sensing himself in a bit of a bind, Corvo pushed his own insecurities behind, accepting her soft hand, letting her lead him to the action. The crowd welcomed him with open arms, shouting and yelling cheers of encouragement as the two took the center stage and began their performance.

He found himself moving sluggishly at first, being put into a position he had never found himself in, but soon enough, the rhythm came to him. Taking a few opportune moments to study Jessamine's feet and body movement, he quickly realigned himself to correlate directly with her, allowing her to dictate the speed, the movement, of their dance. His focus was entirely on the view before him. Her silky, flowing dark hair, which twirled around with a mind of its own. Eyes, like heated obsidian, filled with nothing but warmth. Lips twisted into the most beautiful smile, revealing pearly white teeth that shone like nothing else. Jessamine was, in that moment, the only sight to behold in the world.

Sensing his growing comfort, she began to move faster, jumping into more intricate styles and forms, pleased when Corvo adapted without hesitation.

The crowd, the park, the city, everything was forgotten, and the only thing that existed in the world was Jessamine and Corvo.

* * *

Hours of the day ticked away without them realizing it before their little festival came to an end. Its attendees, drunk from delight and alcohol, stumbled away into the night to their eagerly awaiting beds, leaving Corvo alone with Jessamine.

"You know, for someone who doesn't dance, you're not half bad."

Corvo laughed, still feeling the adrenaline pumping through his body.

"Thanks. You're a pretty good dancer yourself."

She gave him a full bow, before returning his laughter.

Realizing just how late it was getting, Corvo spoke.

"We should head back to Dunwall Tower now, before the guards report that their future Empress just disappeared."

They began making their way through the darkened streets, trying to recognize any stores or buildings that would confirm they were headed in the right direction. Unlike the day, the streets of Dunwall were almost completely deserted at night, aside from the occasional drunk stumbling home, or shifty figures hiding in the alleyways, eager to complete whatever transaction they were working on.

Still, most knew to keep clear of certain areas controlled by the city's gangs. Unfortunately, Corvo and Jessamine weren't one of those people.

Corvo noticed them first, long before they ever exposed themselves. First there was one, who had been slumped against a wall, pretending to be asleep. Two more appeared from an alleyway a ways back, obviously waiting for them to pass by. But it wasn't until a fourth fellow showed, that they made their move.

"Look who decided to show his face again." The voice came from behind them.

Slowly turning around, Corvo found himself face to face with two large burly men. As they claimed his attention, the other two appeared and moved behind him, surrounding the Lord Protector and the Princess in a matter of a few seconds.

"You've got some balls, I'll give you that. Pulling a stunt like the one you did, then showing up again."

Jessamine, completely confused, instinctively clutched Corvo's shirt.

"Corvo?"

He didn't look at her, refusing to break eye contact with the thug standing before him.

"Everything's alright. Don't panic."

One of the men chuckled.

"Who's this? Your company for the night?" The comment brought a round of laughter from the others.

"Pretty face. No scars. Maybe we'll take her with us once we're done feeding you to the rats."

The grip on his shirt tightened.

"Enough. What do you want."

Corvo directed it as less of a question and more of a statement, meeting each of their gazes, one by one.

"What, you don't remember us?" One of the men proclaimed, stepping forward.

It took Corvo only a second to recognize the man, and his companion as members of the Bottlestreet Gang. And more specifically, the two individuals whom he had singlehandedly humiliated rescuing a certain Geoff Curnow.

"I remember you."

The burly man gave an ugly grin.

"Good. And now you'll remember not to mess with the Bottlestreet gang, ever!"

The four men attacked at once, bearing their hungry blades. Corvo reached at his side for his sword, only to find it empty, recalling his choice to leave it behind.

Given almost no time to react, he quickly shoved Jessamine's head down, keeping her out of harm's way, before narrowly dodging the first swing thrown at him. As the sword passed by, Corvo punched the man hard in the stomach, causing him to fall back, clutching his belly as he gasped for air. Another punch knocked him out. Reaching behind him, where he had securely fastened a small dagger, Corvo drew his own blade, knowing the shorter length would put him at a major disadvantage against now three swordsmen.

Avoiding another strike that was too close for comfort, Corvo, in a single, precise motion, slashed his dagger against the man's throat, blood spurting out of the wound and onto Corvo's face. The third gang member, taking advantage of the preoccupied Corvo, slashed him across the back, deep enough to bring out a gasp from Corvo and draw blood, but not enough to incapacitate him.

Fueled now by anger at the situation he put himself in, Corvo spun his legs around, kicking the thug's feet out from under him, causing him to hit the ground hard. As he lied there, Corvo brought his blade up, and stabbed the man repeatedly in the chest.

His bout of rage was interrupted by a high pitched shriek. Looking up, Corvo saw the last remaining thug holding Jessamine in his arms, blade to her throat.

"You take one more step, and pretty girl here gets it."

Corvo stepped forward, refusing to be intimidated. He could see the fear in the man's eyes. He wasn't surprised. Who wouldn't be scared, after watching what appeared to be an unarmed man bloodily cut down three armed gang members, each one of them bigger than him.

"Fuck you, you piece of shit. You killed my friends." The remaining member screamed as Corvo moved closer.

Of course, with all his attention focused on the approaching killer, he had almost entirely ignored Jessamine. Refusing to be kept as a hostage waiting to be rescued, she bit the burly man's hand, causing him to recoil in pain and surprise, before smashing her heeled shoe down on his foot.

Now free from her, Corvo tackled the man to the ground, holding his short dirk up to his throat.

"You, or anyone from the Bottlestreet gang touch her again, I will kill you."

The sentence was loaded with such pure rage and steel, that the man couldn't help but stare blankly into Corvo's face before he brought his fist down, knocking the man unconscious.

Breathing heavily, he turned to Jessamine, who almost recoiled from his touch. Corvo resisted the urge to laugh. What a sight that must have been. To see him, so full of anger, strike and kill other men right in front of her, most wouldn't even dare approach him again. So he kept his distance.

"You alright, Jessamine?"

She simply nodded, eyeing him curiously.

"I'm sorry about this. It was me they wanted, and I'm sorry to have dragged you into my business. If I hadn't killed them…they would have kept coming. After me, and after you. I couldn't let that happen."

Jessamine still kept silent, watching him.

He sighed, not knowing how else to respond.

"It's alright."

Corvo turned around.

"It's alright Corvo. I guess, I'd better get used to it. Seems wherever an Empress goes, death follows. If my father had enforced more control in fighting against these gangs, this could have been avoided."

Her words stung Corvo more than any sword ever could. To hear such admittance from a girl still so young, who only hours ago had shown so much life, so much happiness, hurt him.

He felt her warm touch against his back, as the fleeting sensation of combat withdrew, and the pain from his wound began flooding his body.

"We should head back to the Tower, get your wound treated." She whispered, leading him with a soft caress, ripping a piece of fabric from her clothing to wipe the blood off his face.

Neither one of them looked back.

 **A/N #2: So much for happy chapter, huh? But I felt it was almost needed, to really help accentuate Jessamine's growth and maturity, how she starts to look at these harsh situations as a way to improve her city. Along with Corvo starting to realize that the lethal approach isn't always necessary when protecting the ones he cares about.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Another long period of silence, followed by an extremely short chapter. Disappointing, I know. But college life has taken its toll, and I haven't been able to do much writing. You'll be glad to know that I am currently working on a longer, more interesting chapter that'll come soon.**

Chapter XII(12.5)

It was a brisk winter morning, the first snows drifting slowly down from the heavens.

Corvo found her in the courtyard, clumsily swinging a wooden sword at one of the many stationary straw puppets, relying more on the raw strength behind the strike, rather than proper technique or balance. Without making a sound, Corvo moved carefully down the stairs, observing the princess.

She was panting heavily, and steam rose from her forehead, where the sweat dripped down her face, indicating she had been there a while. The attire consisted of some simple garments, common clothes picked out for her for less special occasions. Her expression was one of anger and exhaustion. As Corvo reached the foot of the stairs, and his boots connected with the earthy soil surrounding the courtyard, he watched the Princess release an exasperated sigh, delivering one more blow at her motionless target before letting the sword slip from her grasp, ignoring as it arced over her shoulder, following its path as she dropped to her knees, exhaling deeply. The sword flew through the air, but did not reach the ground, with Corvo shooting his hand out to catch it before it fell.

Clutching the sword by its wooden blade, he approached the weary princess. As he stepped into her sights, she gave the slightest nod, still catching her breath. He stuck the sword in her direction, hilt first, motioning to the rack of blades. Without a word, Jessamine rose, taking the sword from Corvo, returning it to its rightful place before drinking from a flash of water that lay on the table beside it.

"What were you doing?"

She gave him a funny look.

"What does it look like? I was training?"

"For what?"

Pausing to take another swig of water, she wiped her mouth.

"Well, I was just thinking, that I should know how to use a sword. You know, defend myself if need be."

Now it was Corvo's time to give her a puzzled look.

"Whatever for? I can defend you just fine."

Avoiding his sight, she kicked at the dirt.

"Yes, you can. Look Corvo, I'm not doubting your skills, I know how good of a fighter you are. But…what if you're not around? What if something happens to you, and I need to fight myself?"

"I'm your Lord Protector. I'll always be there to protect you." His eyes narrowed. "Why are you asking this?"

"Is it bad to be prepared?"

"You didn't answer the question."

"I just want to know how to swing a sword. Is that so bad?"

Corvo sighed, but not before a small smile formed on his face.

"Fine. But if you're going to 'swing a sword', you could at least try to learn how to properly do it."

He reached over to the rack of swords, pulling two out, tossing one to the Princess, who, still shocked, dropped the flask of water as she attempted to catch the sword flying through the air. Jessamine groaned as the water spilled onto the ground, leaking into the dirt.

"Sword up, Princess." She looked up to see Corvo grinning at her. "Let's begin."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter XIV

"Oh, your Majesty, you look magnificent!"

One of Princess Jessamine's many handmaidens pronounced as the future Empress stepped out from behind the dresser, clad in an ornate and shining new dress. It was a delicate, and very stylish piece, colored blue and white, the blue for her city of Gristol, and white to go along with it. The laced frills were expertly made, with the slightest hint of gold embroidery exposing itself throughout the fabric. Unlike most royal dresses at the time, there was no crinoline, to allow greater movement, and less discomfort.

She truly did look magnificent.

The occasion for the elaborate dress up was one that raised mixed feelings in Jessamine. She remembered her father approaching her with the subject.

It began over a typical breakfast for the family, after her morning studies, and her father had just completed whatever task was required of him as Emperor. After the usual small talk, he announced that one of the Secretaries of Tyvia, Secretary Tybalt Cushing, would be arriving soon to the capital with his eldest son, Markus Cushing.

When Jessamine asked about the purpose of the visit, after a brief pause, her father mentioned the idea of marriage. At first, she was shocked. There had been suitors in the past, she remembered, but no one more than the sons of Gristol's noblemen, dull and uninteresting boys who cared more about the wishes of their fathers and the position of Emperor than Jessamine herself. Yet now, a foreign boy, was willing to cross the sea and travel across the Empire to present himself to her, filled her with a strange sense of excitement, and nervousness.

It was unlike anything she had felt before. Before, the idea of courtship and marriage seemed a faraway thought, one left to the years to come. But now, she had reached the age of fifteen, with her life being almost devoid of any form of romance. The prospect of meeting some mysterious stranger from a distant land thrilled her.

She tried not to seem too hasty in responding to her father, maintaining a straight face when answering. Somewhat pleased with her answer, the Emperor began to go on about the responsibilities that would soon come, and how every Empress needed a good Emperor to stand at her side, and she at his. Of course, at this point Jessamine had already begun drifting off into another world, imagining a young, handsome Tyvian noble holding her in his arms.

When announcing the news to Corvo, he did not share her excitement, and for a moment was taken aback. A moment passed before he composed himself again, then congratulated her on the news, but not before offering a stern warning. Like with her father, she ignored the wise words of her Lord Protector, nodding and assuring him as his words went in one ear and out the other, forgotten as quickly as the winds change.

Soon, preparations for a feast to greet the Secretary and his son began to go underway, and Jessamine ordered for a new dress to be made for her. And so, the dress was made.

* * *

Jessamine examined herself in front of the mirror, twirling slowly to see every part of the dress and its excellent design. The navy blue blended well with her darker hair, giving her an air of calm and collectedness, while the white provided a lighter, more cheerful light against the seriousness of the darker colors. Lack of the cumbersome crinoline allowed for her alluring and slender feminine body to stand out, a design choice she herself made.

Still peering into the mirror, she flashed a radiant smile, showing a mouth full of glistening white teeth, her cheeks and eyes softening, only accentuating her already established blooming beauty. Yes, word had already begun to circulate through the Empire of the lovely daughter of the Emperor and her unrivaled beauty. From the streets of Dunwall, to the windy city of Serkonos, whispers and stories told over tankards of ale in overcrowded inns, plans and alliances drawn out over exquisite and expensive wine, all soon at some point or another heard the tales of their future Empress.

And so, the bureaucrats and rulers made their plans, gathering their eldest sons close, each with the intention of having their son become the future Emperor of the Isles. The first of these schemers was none other than one of the venerable High Judges of Tyvia, or as they were more commonly known, the Secretaries for the People of Tyvia, Secretary Tybalt Cushing.

The arrival of the foreign embassy went smoothly, with a private greeting between the Emperor, and Tyvia's Secretary, per request of the Secretary. Although the Royal Guard accompanied the Emperor in the arrival, Corvo did not join them. In all the excitement and commotion, he had been informed to keep a close eye on Princess Jessamine, and was required to keep her in his sights at all times during and after the great feast.

Of course, Corvo knew this, and when the Emperor pressed on about the importance of this task, he did all he could to reassure him, that no harm would pass upon his daughter.

* * *

Retiring to his chambers, he shut the heavy door, exhaling heavily as he made his way to the sink of the bathroom. He splashed the icy cold water on his face, examining the thin veil of stubble that had begun to form once more on his face. Rubbing his cheek, Corvo reached for the razor, methodically rasping the dull blade down his skin until they were bare and clean-shaven. The resting area of the Tower was completely silent and isolated, with the majority of the residents and staff occupied with preparing the laving and costly dinner. The clock ticked away noisily, each second resonating throughout his scarcely decorated room.

Corvo noted the time. It was around five thirty, which left him a good hour to clean up and finish overseeing the final security arrangements for the night. Patting himself dry, he went to remove his outfit from the storage of his closet. The gleaning navy blue coat of Lord Protector. Freshly washed, it shone in the dimly lit room, all the past damage and injuries it had been exposed to in the past gone, as if they had never happened. The outfit that had become all too familiar to him in the past years, in times of sorrow, and in times of joy. He slipped it on, basking in its warmth and snug fit, tugging on the sleeves to make sure they were aligned. The final part of his suit lay on his desk, on the other side of the room. His sword.

Unlike most others that bore the name of Lord, Corvo stuck with the standard blade given to all the guards of Dunwall Tower, refusing to have some fancy, intricately adorned sword that usually served more for show than combat. As he picked up the blade and scabbard, securing it onto the belt of his coat, there was a hesitant knock on the door. The knock was from one of the Princess's handmaidens, head bowed, arms clasped in front of her, as she spoke, refusing to meet Corvo's eyes.

"Uhm, Princess Jessamine requests your, uh, presence, Lord Protector." She stammered nervously.

He sighed, unsurprised, but slightly annoyed. Even after years in the Tower, Corvo had built up a reputation unlike any other. First, despised as a low-born foreigner, then feared and respected for his extraordinary skills, the city born and soldiers admired him, while the nobles and those living in Dunwall Tower were disquieted, or feared the quiet Serkonan. He was partly to blame, he supposed, choosing to maneuver through his life with as little interaction with the Tower staff as possible. In fact, most of his days were spent either off with Jessamine, on whatever adventure they planned for the day, or discussing business concerning the security of Dunwall with Emperor Euhorn. And so, he reaped the consequences of his secluded lifestyle.

"Of course. I'll be there soon." Corvo replied, allowing the shadow of a smile to creep up on his face in an attempt to ease the shaken servant.

She hurried off, to relay the news of his arrival to her mistress. Checking himself in the mirror, fixing the strands of hair that refused to cooperate with the rest, Corvo left the confines of his room, and making his way to the all too familiar hallway belonging to the Empire's princess. Smoothing his coat, he knocked, and was almost immediately greeted by another handmaiden.

"I was summoned…" Corvo began, but was quickly interrupted by a familiar voice from within.

"Is that Corvo? Corvo!"

Entering with head bowed, he took a moment to notice the amount of people crammed into the Princess's quarters. At least half a dozen of her personal handmaidens wandered about, each assigned to some specific task to ensure that their Princess was prepared. Then there were the specialists, the hairstylist, tailor, make-up artist. Among the crowd of people, stood Princess Jessamine Kaldwin, adorned in her stunning dress.

Corvo was stunned. He noticed, of course, that she was an attractive young girl, with her good looks only increasing as she neared adulthood, but never had he seen her like this. The Jessamine he was used to was a girl who wasn't afraid to walk around with dirt on her face and leaves in her hair. The Jessamine he knew was someone who loved sneaking out of the restricting high society, wandering around the city surrounded by singing and dancing drunkards, dressed in nothing but simple cloth and garments. That was Jessamine, the playful girl. The…young woman standing before him was not that girl. This was Princess Jessamine Kaldwin, first of her name, future Empress of the Isles.

He quickly recovered, before too long of a silence could pass.

"Princess Jessamine." Corvo said, bowing his head once more.

Jessamine, within the confines of three women, each either measuring of fiddling with some part of her dress or hair, rolled her eyes, giving him a big smile.

"Royal Lord Protector." She spoke, mockingly. "What do you think of my dress?"

His eyes widened. "You look…good." Corvo stammered, unsure how to respond.

She looked almost offended at the simplicity of his answer.

"Good? Just good?"

Corvo struggled to think of a proper answer.

"It is a fine dress, Princess. You wear it well."

Jessamine beamed, giggling at his obvious discomfort. Her attention was drawn away from him for a moment as one of the ladies caring for her dress murmured a question, to which she responded with a simple nod.

"Do you think Markus will like it?" She asked, almost hesitantly.

Ah, he thought. He had been summoned as the visual sampler, to test whether the Princess looked adequate enough to greet her potential suitor.

"He would be a fool not to."

Once again, his answer was met with only the slightest acknowledgement, as once more her consideration was pulled away by more base and shallow comments by her servants.

Seeing that he was no longer needed, Corvo took his leave, delivering a last, respectful bow before slipping out the door, seemingly unnoticed. Instead, he turned his mind to more pressing matters, such as concluding the security preparations. The Secretary for the People of Tyvia had brought a large amount of his own household guard, a number close twenty or thirty men, each one of which had to be managed for. Although the Secretary had wished for his men to oversee the security of the event, just to "take some of the load off" the Emperor's hands, were his words, Corvo managed to convince the Emperor otherwise. Corvo had come to Gristol as a foreigner to the lands, but over the years had been quick to see it as his new home, and was determined on protecting it himself.

Corvo had a quick word with Geoff Curnow, who had quickly made his way up the ranks of the City Watch, and was widely respected by most of the officers in the guild. With Curnow, he had managed to attain fifteen of the finest soldiers of the City Watch to provide careful guard over the event. Not that Corvo thought anything would go wrong. From what he heard from the Emperor, this kind of thing was a common sight. The heir to the throne of the Empire needed a husband, and so the nobles of the Empire provided. And Corvo would be by the Princess's side the entire time, watching attentively, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

Unknown to the Emperor, however, Corvo had assigned himself another more, personal task for the night. To get a reading on the nobleman's son. He wasn't exactly eager when he heard the first of Princess's Jessamine's foreign suitors had begun to flock to her, and wished to see this Markus face to face before making any judgements.

Either way, Corvo thought, it would prove to be an interesting night.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter XV

The feast already began on a bad note. Corvo, Jessamine, and the Emperor arrived at the allotted time for dinner, when the dozen or so clocks that littered Dunwall Tower struck seven. As they entered the vast and looming dining hall, servants peeled out from the shadows, skittering around like ants as they concluded the final preparations for the incoming meal. Guards, shining blue, stood like stone, hands clasped by their sides, motionless except for the faintest acknowledgement as their Emperor appeared.

Yet, although the hosts had arrived, and taken their places on the set table, there was a key feature missing from the picture. The guests of honor, Senator Tybalt Cushing, and the senator's son, Markus Cushing.

Corvo eyed the door, feeling the growing discomfort in the room. He watched the Emperor shake his head, sighing softly, taking the smallest sip from his silver-plated wine cup. Jessamine, was another story. She clung at the silverware on the table, gaze rooted to a specific spot on her plate, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. Reaching behind his chair, Corvo laid a soft hand on her shoulder. His unexpected action startled her, disrupting her icy grip the fork and knife, clattering noisily on the table. Finally, her face rose to his. He gave her a nod, and a smile of encouragement.

She returned his smile with a thin one of her own, audibly breathing deeply in an attempt to calm her nerves. Despite all his experience in life, this was one that he found himself completely helpless to. Even when part of the Duke of Serkonos's personal guard, Corvo was more often than not out of the way of most political dinners or weddings. There would not be any fancy, arranged marriages for him, no schemes for using him to gain political power, and the such. But Jessamine would. She was the Princess, and heir to the Empire, a title that draw out the ambition in all men, whether she liked it or not. Till the day she died, people would be kneeling at her feet, while making their plans to manipulate or encourage the future Empress to support and nourish their own, selfish goals. Some, Corvo knew, would be more successful than others, whether it be through charm, guile, or force. And here, Corvo would be witnessing the first attempt to foster a man's ambition, through the marriage of his oldest son.

At last, the guests of honor arrived. Narrowing his eyes, Corvo analyzed the first figure to walk into the room. Standing tall and upright, with an air of respect surrounding him, was none other than Secretary Tybalt. He had hard, angular features, exposing a face that had once been handsome, now withered with age, as wrinkles covered his face, with skin that had begun to sag. His hair was almost completely gray, with a few exceptions of black roots around the base of the forehead. Crunched eyebrows revealed dark eyes below, staring intensely at who dared meet his gaze. This was a man, Corvo thought, who was used to being feared. And enjoyed it.

But the elder Cushing was not alone. Trailing behind him, was a rather curious sight. The younger of the two, at the age of seventeen, showed promising height, as well as cute facial features, giving off a rogue-like appearance. Dark haired and eyed just like his father, but where his father commanded integrity and respect, his son lacked it in every regard. Unlike every nobleman's son Corvo had met, this young man had his clothing improperly buttoned, hair barely combed, and shoes half slipped on, as if he had been dressing himself on the way to dinner. He seemed better prepared to meet some call girl than an Emperor and the Princess.

Corvo heard the slightest gasp coming from Jessamine as she finally saw the man who had traveled so far to ask for her hand. He could sense her confusion as they approached the table.

As they met before the Emperor, the Secretary and his son gave a courteous bow.

"Please excuse us for the tardiness of our arrival, we had a slight mishap." Secretary Tybalt spoke with a voice of steel, glaring at his son as he uttered his excuse.

"Of course, do not worry yourself. Come, sit, eat." The Emperor answered, gesturing to the full table before them.

They both took their seats at the table, with the Secretary sitting closest to the Emperor, while Markus sat across from Princess Jessamine. As soon as he hit the seat, Markus dug in, filling his plate to the brim with a helpful serving from every dish. He seemed somewhat oblivious to the scene he had created, chewing and slurping loudly as he consumed his feast. This went on for a while, until the young man had cleared the plate, and emptied his glass to the very last drop. Only then, after holding back a belch, did he look up, and see his purpose for the visit.

His eyes widened for a moment as he saw Jessamine for the first time, flashing a mouth full of glistening white teeth and mischievous intention.

"You're the Princess right? My father told me all about you." Markus spoke for the first time, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Jessamine didn't respond, fear rooting her to her seat, and keeping her tongue quiet.

Her suitor ignored the nervous pause. Instead, he reached once more across the table for a half-eaten chicken, ripping off the remaining drumstick and tearing into it before settling back down into his seat.

"Your son has quite the appetite." Emperor Euhorn whispered off to the side to the Tyvian Secretary.

Corvo saw the elder Cushing nod his head in agreement, watching his graying eyebrows knit even tightly across his eyes.

Finally, realizing that Jessamine had not responded, he looked up again.

"Well you are, aren't you? Princess Jasmine, was it?"

This time she spoke up, yet her voice remained merely a whisper.

"It's Jessamine." After no response from Markus, she continued, remembering her basic courtesies. "It is nice to meet you, Markus. I hope you are enjoying the meal our cooks prepared."

"Yeah, it's not bad. Say, you wouldn't happen to have anything stronger, would you?" He indicated to his empty cup. "Wine just doesn't really do the trick anymore."

Corvo was growing to hate this kid more and more by the second. He knew this kind. Rich kids who had spent too long suckling on the teats of their mothers, and indulging the fat purse of their fathers. Boys who thought themselves men, taking full advantage of the perks and honors that came with being born a part of high society. A spoiled brat.

As a servant ran over to refill the young man's cup, Corvo couldn't help but feel bad for Jessamine. It wasn't her first experience with a suitor, but it was certainly one of the first that had shown actual potential. And to be greeted with this, it wasn't encouraging.

The dinner dragged on with little conversation aside from the occasional discussion between the Emperor and the Secretary, as well as a few words of small talk exchanged between Princess Jessamine and her foreign suitor.

As the meal came to an end, the young Markus Cushing, after clearing his throat from his latest refreshment, rose from his chair.

"I would like to thank Emperor Euhorn for this fine feast, and congratulate all the chef on their excellent cooking. It really was, quite exquisite. And of course, to the beautiful Princess Jessamine, for her wonderful company this evening."

He rose his half-empty glass, to a toast. The sudden outburst had taken the remaining members of the table off-guard, and at the proposition, they all scrambled for their own cups to raise in the air alongside his. Corvo was the last to rise, but the egotistical youth paid him little attention, instead directing his gaze to the young Princess.

"I must say, I have enjoyed my stay in Gristol, especially Dunwall Tower. Yet there is much I have yet to explore. Perhaps, Princess, you could give me a private tour of your home? If, that is alright with Emperor Euhorn?"

Ah, Corvo thought. Now he finally reached his goal. To isolate himself from the boring masses and dull restraints of proper etiquette. The Senator perked up at the idea, allowing himself the smallest of smiles.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Seems like a great bonding experience. If, after all, they are to be betrothed, it would be fit for them to get to know each other better."

Knowing he could not rightly refuse the proposition brought on by his guests, the Emperor gave in, waving them off, dismissing them, but not before meeting Corvo's eyes. The unspoken message was received clearly. Keep watch over her. He gave him a slight nod, before rising with the couple, silently trailing behind them as they exited the room.

It wasn't long before Markus caught wind of the Serkonan following them. With a puzzled expression on his face, he turned to meet him.

"Why are you following us? I asked for a private tour with the Princess, alone, without some roguish guard-dog eyeing us."

"I am the Princess's Lord Protector. It is my duty to watch over her, unless ordered by the Princess herself."

He could see hints of anger and annoyance beginning to tug on Markus's face, as another obstacle stepped into his path. Feigning a grin, he turned to Jessamine.

"Princess, why don't you tell your Lord Protector to give us a little room, huh? He'll just spoil the fun. I mean, look at him, he seems like a total bore."

When Jessamine hesitated, he placed a hand on her shoulder, beckoning her forward.

"Go on. Tell him."

She nodded to him, a forced smile on her face, taking a deep breath before responding, refusing to look at his face.

"Corvo, could you give us a little space for a while? I'm just going to show him around, then we'll be back, ok? Promise."

Corvo didn't lift his own gaze from her.

"If that is your order, Princess."

He bowed, gritting his teeth as he turned his back on them, feeling the humiliation washing over him.

Making his way down the hall, his self-contained anger was interrupted by the sound of soft, almost inaudible sobbing. Pausing a moment, he stood completely still, cancelling out all other vibrations, to avoid being mistaken. No, someone was certainly crying. And it was coming from the servant dining chambers, its door just off to his left. Placing one hand on the hilt of his sword, he carefully pushed the door open, to see a single handmaiden sitting alone at a wooden table, crying into her arms. As she heard him approach, she quickly stood, trying her best to contain her tears, but failing to do so.

"Shh, it's alright." Corvo whispered, approaching her.

The handmaiden continued to cry, yet not as intense as before.

"What happened?" Corvo asked, in a gentle tone.

She took a moment before answering, composing herself as best she could.

"It…wasn't my fault. I didn't want any trouble."

Corvo didn't answer, giving her time to answer at her own pace.

"He said…he said if I told anyone, that he'd lock me up. Throw me in prison." She looked up at Corvo. "I'm just a simple handmaiden, my Lord. I didn't want any trouble. So…I did as he said."

"Who?"

She didn't answer, almost as if her fear of this strange man had overcome her.

In a more persistent tone, Corvo repeated his question.

"Who."

The steel in his voice stunned her for a moment, then she looked at him as if she had just realized who he was. Corvo Attano, Lord Protector to Princess Jessamine Kaldwin.

"The foreign boy. He was passing through the halls, when he took a fancy to me. Grabbed me, pushed me into one of the storage rooms. Told me, that he was a nobleman's son, and that if I told anyone, all he would have to do is tell his father and they'd come and lock me away forever." She looked into his eyes. "I've got a son, my Lord, and a family here. If they locked me up, who would look after them?"

"Continue. What happened."

At this point, tears were streaming down her face, and she was shaking.

"Well, he told me to keep real quiet, then he took all my clothes off. And he…"

"Stop."

Before leaving the unfortunate handmaiden, he called over a group of guards to tend to her. After making sure she was well tended for, he burst out of the room, seething with anger as he raced down the halls, searching for the Princess he was tasked to protect, and the dangerous boy that accompanied her.

How could he have been so foolish as to have left her with him?

* * *

"…and these are the chambers assigned to the Royal Family."

Jessamine glanced over to the lone member of her spontaneous and unexpected tour, the brash and charming Markus Cushing. Even after the dinner, and exploring Dunwall Tower, she didn't know what to make of him. He was good looking, of that there was no doubt. Yet the way he held himself, his somewhat rude impulses made her question his judgement. And whether or not she would ever want to marry such a man.

Even now, as Jessamine took him around all her favorite spots of her home, he appeared bored at times, feigning interesting, choosing instead to compliment or flatter her. Not for the first time, she regretted letting Corvo leave. At least with him here with her she would have felt somewhat comfortable.

"Which one of these is your room?" Markus asked.

Eyeing him, she pointed to the one to their right, one of the only rooms in the Royal wing that faced outward, towards the sea of Gristol.

"Show me inside?"

Not knowing what else to answer, she pushed the door open, allowing this stranger to explore her sanctuary. It felt wrong, as if with everything he touched, everything he explored, was slowly desecrating her place of comfort and safety.

He stopped by her bed, feeling at the blankets, and mattress. Clearing his throat, Markus motioned to it.

"Well…want to?"

For a moment, she was shocked, either from not being sure what he was proposing, or for proposing what she just thought he did.

"What?" was the only response she could muster up.

Markus rolled his eyes, coyly smiling to her.

"Oh please, don't tell me you've never had sex. You're fifteen, right? I've met quite a few girls in my time, but damn, if you're not sexier than all of them. And a Princess too."

Her taken aback expression only made him laugh.

"No one? Surrounded by young, handsome men, and you've never! Not even with that 'Lord Protector'? He wouldn't be my first pick, but I wouldn't have been surprised. In fact, I kind of just assumed you two had."

It was now Jessamine finally realized just what kind of man she had invited into her room. She had heard of his kind before, young, lustful womanizers who went after anything with a pretty face. Men who would charm you half to death and have you naked on their bed before you even realized it. And now she had fallen for his caressing words, and soft tone.

"I almost envy you. I can't even remember my first. Too long ago. Still, I am surprised, that much is certain. A beautiful girl like you, I'm sure you had plenty of suitors. Must have been difficult to resist them all. But trust me Princess, it is a wondrous experience. Nothing in the world compares to it."

He approached her, laying a gentle hand on the small of her back, while staring intensely into her eyes.

"So…shall we?"

His moment of intensity didn't last. As he began removing his shirt, while Jessamine sat pale-stricken on her bed, the door bust open, revealing a blur of rage and steel. Corvo, within moments notice, had leaped from the foot of the door, to the bed, slamming Markus against the window, shattering it, as he continued through the glass and onto the balcony just outside. Without missing a step, Corvo held the boy by the throat, holding his bared blade against Markus's bare chest. Slowly, he pushed the boy further and further off the balcony, as if to drop him.

All this happened while Jessamine stared in a state of partial terror and relief, and the young Markus yelled from the sudden attack.

Corvo had yet not spoken a word. Only until the boy had quieted down did he lean in closer, and with a growl that was barely a whisper, said,

"Leave now."

Two words was all it took, then Corvo stared intently into the boy's eyes once more before effortlessly throwing him back into the room, bloodied from the glass. It was only after he regained his composure that he began to speak.

"You've cut me! You can't do this to me, you brute! My father is the most powerful man in Tyvia, and will have your head for ever laying a hand on me, savage! No island will be big enough to hide you from his wrath!" He spat out his threats, blood and sweat dripping down his face.

"And what will my father do," A small voice spoke. "When he finds out that you tried to take advantage of his only daughter, and heir to the Empire?"

Markus spun his head in the direction of the voice. Standing tall now, was the Princess Jessamine Kaldwin, directing her own fury towards him.

"What?"

"My father is the most powerful man in the entire Empire. You are nothing compared to him. You are nothing compared to me." She took her place next to Corvo.

"Now, I suggest you take your leave, back to where you came, before words are exchanged between fathers, and consequences are dealt out."

The young Markus Cushing could not exit the room faster, covered in blood, half naked.

As soon as he left, shutting behind the ruins of the smashed door, Jessamine exhaled deeply, sitting on her bed. Corvo walked to her side.

"Jessamine?"

She chuckled softly at the tenderness in his voice. Who knew that a man so feared, and so deadly, could also act with such gentleness, when the moment required it.

"I'm fine, Corvo. I was just, surprised by him, is all. I didn't realize what he was until it was too late."

"Neither did I."

"I guess he fooled us all. But that's all he is. A great big fool, with a powerful name and a powerful father." She sighed. "The most dangerous kind."

Corvo knelt to the ground, examining the shards of broken glass. He held one up to her.

"Sorry about the window."

"Don't be. The bastard deserved it. And I can always get a new one."

He made a move to the door, but Jessamine stopped him.

"Wait, Corvo." He turned to face her.

"Thank you."

Corvo gave her a smile of his own.

"Anytime, Jessamine."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter XVI

The moon shone brightly in the clear night sky, not a cloud in sight. Twinkling beautifully in the vastness of the night, keeping the moon company were thousands of stars, each one casting its own union of unique light and color. On nights like these, the realm seemed truly at peace, each one of its inhabitants retiring from their dutiful lives to participate in the communion of rest as the sun fell from the sky, and the moon took its place.

All, it seemed, but one.

The solitary figure swiftly made their way through the Tower, slipping almost effortlessly past the extensive security, not stopping until they reached the stables that were along the outer perimeter of the home. Like the city, the stable was fast asleep, aside from one horse, whose saddle and saddlebags appeared prepared. Carefully, to avoid disturbing the other horses, as well as the quartermaster who had fallen asleep at his post only meters away, the stranger led their horse away from the stable, shutting the gate softly behind them. Once they were clear of the building, they mounted the saddle and took off, riding hard to leave the Tower behind. Crossing through the nearly empty streets of Dunwall, the rider made quick time, exiting the inner city and making it to the outskirts, and eventually to the vast country beyond.

* * *

It was amazing, that such a dense and populated city like Dunwall could have a large portion of relatively undisturbed land of forest. But even that was rapidly changing. With each year, the land that remained uninhabited shrank a little, as the economic and business demands grew and their territories expanded outward. Under the last few years of Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin, technology had begun advancing at an alarming rate, mostly due to the invaluable contributions made by Royal Physician, Anton Sokolov. Since his arrival in the capital, and total control over the growing science department, his popularity, to his dismay and enjoyment, had grown tremendously. On his free time, he had spent more time painting, mostly landscape and city illustrations, but occasionally, if bugged enough, he would put aside the countryside for a personal portrait. Such occasions were so rare that many of the noble families would spend hundreds on lavishing gifts in attempts to gain his affection. But Anton Sokolov wasn't any ordinary painter, and didn't bestow his artistic talent to just anyone. In his case, they had to prove to be interesting more than anything. What it meant to him, no one knew, but he made his case very clear.

* * *

Ruling over the peaceful era in history, Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin slept with somewhat surprising unease. Although the Empire of the Isles was seeing one the greatest moments in its troublesome history, his thoughts and worries had been directed more towards the personal, internal affairs concerning his family. Euhorn still woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, plagued with nightmares of watching the face of the woman he had loved expire from his world. Despite all the respect and power he commanded, it was not enough to save the one that mattered the most to him. And so, the remainder of his affection had been turned towards his growing daughter, Jessamine, and to an extent, to her constant companion, Corvo Attano.

Ever since the death of his wife, Beatrix, Euhorn had turned his attention to preparing Jessamine for the throne, knowing that when he was gone, she would rule over the Empire and its entirety. The idea pained him a bit, knowing full well that his precious little girl would not be given the opportunity to have a normal childhood, instead plagued with the responsibilities that came with ruling an Empire. But it had to be done, and he wanted to ensure that by the time she would rise up, and assume the mantle of responsibility that was required of her, that Jessamine would be well-prepared.

Standing by her side, Euhorn knew, would be the Serkonan Lord Protector, Corvo. Like many in his administration, the introduction of Corvo into Gristol brought many doubts to mind. He had learned early on that many offerings, especially those involving highly trained and efficient body guards, rarely were what they seemed. Still, time proved that Corvo would end up being more of a gift than a burden, displaying unyielding loyalty towards him and his family. And with time, the young Jessamine had grown especially fond of the foreign warrior, and when she decided to name him as her Lord Protector, Euhorn stood by her in her decision, approving wholeheartedly of her choice.

Euhorn knew, in the troubling times to come, she would need someone like Corvo. Someone who she could absolutely trust, and would be at her side, no matter what.

* * *

The lone rider cleared the city, navigating through the unkempt wilderness with ease, using nothing but the shining moon to guide their way. Soon, the wilderness gave way as they approached the grassy hills near the coast. There was nothing here, but one small, wooden cabin. A cabin, belonging to none other than her. Jessamine Kaldwin.

* * *

The excitement of the past few weeks had been a bit too much for her. She needed to get away, away from high society, from her father, and from Corvo. Even her constant companion, who usually served as her anchor in troubled times was absent from her side. Yet even she needed a break from him at times.

After her father had caught wind of the scandalous attempt made on his daughter, he was furious. But, like a true and dignified ruler, he did not show it, at least not in his expressions. Instead, the Emperor transferred his anger into steely, seething words, all but ordering the Secretary and his troublesome son from Gristol, with the intention that they never return again.

Corvo had reacted a bit differently. Jessamine had grown accustomed to his direct, unrestrained manner, but even she was a bit taken aback by his actions. Assaulting and threatening thugs and gang-members was one thing, but a foreign nobleman's son was another thing entirely. As much as Jessamine disliked the class separation and privilege nobles held over their less fortunate, and poorer counterparts, she understood that the system was there for a reason. It established a form of order, albeit flawed, maintaining the delicate threads of society together, for better or worse.

Corvo had no love for this system, she knew. It was ironic, that by serving as her Royal Protector, how hard he worked to protect the form of government he despised.

For the most part, he knew well enough to keep his place, understanding his role in the complex, overarching game. But his restraint only lasted as far as he willed it to. And when the situation included any kind of harm towards her, all his carefully cultivated self-control flew out the window without a moment's notice.

It was almost…flattering.

She felt her cheeks heat up, and was glad that there was no one near to witness her occasion of personal turmoil.

Soon, her thoughts drifted from her loyal companion to her own actions. Corvo wasn't the only one that scared her that night. Jessamine had scared herself. She recalled the power she channeled in her time of weakness, feeding off the fear of the frightened man before her to fuel her own control.

Was that what it would be like to be Empress? To stare into the faces of those who feared her, and order them to do her bidding?

As her gaze let off into the calm, soft night waters, she made herself a promise.

Jessamine would refuse to be feared, even by her enemies. She would do everything in her power to ensure that peace maintain over the realm, and continue the age of tranquility over Gristol and the entire Empire of the Isles.

Rising up from the cabin floor, the rider mounted her horse, and returned home.


	17. Chapter 17

**Now I know what you're thinking? Where the hell have you been? It's only been like, seven months since you've released anything at all! You're awful. I know, I know. I don't blame you for being angry. I deserve the anger and hate. I just, lost interest in the story. But recently, something has sparked my desire to continue writing this story. Now, I'm not saying that I'm going to finish it, because that is a promise I cannot keep. But I would like to see this story through to the culmination of one event. The moment that Corvo and Jessamine finally get together. (Spoiler, not really) Now, if I can get to that, at least I can feel somewhat satisfied about the lackluster work I've done, and that I didn't completely disappoint all of you, that is, whoever has remained after my long hiatus. So please, indulge me just a little bit more, and hopefully, just hopefully, I can make it worth your while. You guys deserve a proper send-off.**

 **Yours truly,**

 **MD**

Chapter XVII

It had reached that time again, as the days shortened and the temperature dropped. Once again, just like every year, the Fugue Feast arrived on the Month of Flies.

Jessamine stepped down the inlaid staircase with great effort, vision slightly obscured by the swan mask strapped over her face. Placing her hand on the railing, she peered down at the animal house below. It indeed was complete chaos. The hallways of the Tower had been removed of their precious and valuable artifacts, and replaced with rows and rows of various dishes and alcoholic beverages.

Many beverages of which she had already consumed that night, leaving her properly inebriated. It wasn't the first time Jessamine had been drunk, but it was certainly the first time she had been this drunk, already having trouble walking in a straight line, words beginning to slur.

Then she saw him. She would have recognized him anywhere. Even with his mask on, Jessamine knew those broad shoulders, that tall, muscular build. Dressed in a simple white button down with the sleeves rolled up and black vest, matched with his mask shaped in the face of a crow, Corvo still stood out from the crowd. He was sitting at the bar, back turned against the counter as to have a clear view of the crowd, one hand in his pocket, other with a drink in hand. Although Jessamine did not see his sword at his side, she was sure he had all sorts of short blades hidden within the confines of his coat. He was still Lord Protector, after all.

"Lord Protector." Jessamine giggled, catching him by surprise.

Corvo turned to face her, a smile forming on his face.

"Princess." Jessamine noticed how he avoided using her name. "What can I do for you?"

She eyed him over, finishing what remained of her drink in one gulp.

"You know me, just checking up on my good friend." She stammered, bringing her glass up to her mouth, then frowning as she realized it was empty.

"Oh. It's all gone." Her eyes lit up as she saw Corvo's glass, and without pause, threw her glass behind her without looking, and sat up with Corvo at the bar. He watched her, the little of his face that showed betraying nothing.

"Princess, are you alright?"

She gave him a wide grin.

"Never better, Lord Protector. Never better." Calling over the bartender, she pointed at Corvo's glass. "Gimme what he's having."

Jessamine, deciding she was fed up with the restrictions of the mask, struggled to remove it from her head, before her companion moved in closer.

"Here, let me help."

She pushed his hands away, refusing his help in her drunken state. He pulled back, obviously hurt, but refusing to show any sign of it. Jessamine knew him too well. The little habits he unconsciously expressed when he was upset, how his hands fell stiff to his sides, his lips drew just the slightest bit tighter. Corvo was hurt, Jessamine knew, even if his face was stone cold, his expression emotionless. But in that moment, she didn't care.

Fumbling with the straps, Jessamine finally managed to get the confines loose, and tossed the delicate depiction of a swan on the bar. Corvo had already removed his own mask, staring at her with obvious concern.

"Princess?"

In that moment she finally snapped. Jessamine had enough of his properness.

"What Corvo?! What do you want? Want to check up on me, see how I'm doing? Let me save you the trouble. I'm awful. Is that what you wanted to hear? Or would you rather me lie to you too, and say that everything is perfect, and nothing is wrong? Well I'm tired of lying, I am tired of the façade that comes with being a Princess, where I'm forced to hide everything that makes me who I am."

Before she knew it, Jessamine couldn't stop.

"And you serve that system! You enforce it! I don't have a choice, I was born into this life, but you, you can do anything. Yet you willing serve the strong-armed government, the strict rules, the dictatorship on free-will. You kill people for the government! Are you ashamed of yourself? I'm not alright, Corvo. I'm tired. I'm tired of you!"

As soon as those words came out, she immediately covered her mouth, eyes widening in shock. It was as if someone else had said them. Where did such hatred come from? Tears began to form around her eyes as Corvo reacted to her outburst.

Corvo wasn't one to be surprised, or taken off guard. But even his usual carefully controlled facial expressions failed him, the stony visage slipping, and for the first time in her life, she saw him. The face of true pain.

The expression only lasted for a moment, as Corvo quickly composed himself, grasping his drink with a shaking hand, and finishing its contents in one quick gulp.

"Corvo…I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. I just…I've had a lot on my plate, my father's health, and I'm taking out my anger on you…"

Jessamine was interrupted as Corvo rose abruptly from his chair, turning to her without meeting her eyes.

"Your Royal Highness, excuse me." Corvo whispered coldly.

He took off before Jessamine could speak or reach out stop him. Not that she would have been able to do anything. As she got up, Jessamine almost stumbled to ground, her drunken state getting worse. Once Jessamine managed to compose herself, Corvo's tall silhouette had vanished into the crowd.

* * *

She found him on the desolate balcony, staring emptily at the glowing city below them. He must have been deep in thought when Jessamine approached him, because he didn't even notice her presence until she was right at his side. In typical Corvo fashion, he didn't say a word, and barely even acknowledged her presence.

Jessamine broke down.

"Corvo, I'm sorry. Look, I'm drunk, I was angry, and was looking for someone to take my anger out on. It just happened to be you. I know you're not a bad person, and that everything you do is to protect me. Please. You know I didn't mean a word I said."

"First time I killed someone, I was five. I had found a piece of bread, first meal I had all week. Some kid, older, cornered and drew a knife on me. Didn't threaten me or anything. He was just going to gut me, leave me for dead, and then eat my bread over my dead corpse in some alleyway in Serkonos. He was fast, but I was faster, and desperate. Took a rock with a pointed edge, beat his head in till he stopped moving. Didn't sleep for a week."

His voice was soft, but lacking in the usual steely tone that he had developed for years. It was one of the few times Jessamine had seen him like this. Vulnerable. Exposed. The guilt lingered in her mind, and body.

"I…"

"People who tell themselves they have no choice just use that to hide behind their misfortune in life. No matter what we do, we always have a choice. It doesn't matter if you're a princess, or a commoner. In that alley, I had a choice. I live, or I die. I chose to live, and had to deal with the consequences of my choice. Just like you must do with yours.

"No one has a choice, Corvo. Just the illusion of it. But we're not free. Never will be. Whether we're born rich or poor, as a man or woman, when we die, how are we supposed to choose that? Life deals us a hand, and we must work with that hand, but it wasn't chosen by us."

"What's stopping you from waking up tomorrow and walking out of Dunwall Tower, leaving behind the title of Princess?"

"Well…I have responsibilities, a duty to the Empire…"

"And if you left, you would have to deal with the consequences of that. Just like you have to deal with the consequences of staying. But you still have that option. You complain about having no choice about being Princess, yet refuse to do anything to change it. You refuse to give yourself a choice. No, Jessamine, you are the one who is hiding behind the illusion, using it to feel sorry for yourself."

Jessamine didn't say a word, unable to formulate a proper response.

"But you've shown me you're capable of making a choice. When we go out at night, when we sneak off to explore the city, that is a choice you make. To leave behind your duties, and give in to what you truly want. So what's changed, Jessamine? What has happened, that you refuse to give yourself a choice?"

As his own rant continued on, his voice had regained the harshness it was known for, but the vulnerability stayed. Realizing he was almost shouting, Corvo lowered his voice.

"Where's the Jessamine I grew up with? The wide-eyed girl who jumped at the chance of adventure and mystery, who said, screw the system, I'm going to do what I want. Where is the girl who was my partner in crime?"

He stopped.

"My closest friend."

She couldn't take any more.

"I'm sorry Corvo. I just…I can't do it."

Jessamine could sense his unspoken disappointment. He had said his piece, and turned back to face the city below, with each citizen acting on their own accord, giving in to their privilege of choice on the one night where that choice didn't matter. The Fugue Feast. It had brought nothing but misery and contempt to Jessamine, as a way to rub in her face the notion that choice no longer meant anything to her.

Leaving him to his thoughts, Jessamine exited promptly, finding what little comfort she could in the soft pillow and mattress of her bed, plagued by troubled dreams and false hopes.

* * *

The Emperor summoned his daughter to his room a few days after the feast, taking as many meetings as possible in his own personal chambers in an effort to avoid exerting himself too much throughout the day. As soon as Jessamine reached the front door, the pair of guards standing watch instantly bowed, and parted the door for her to enter, where she was greeted by her ailing father.

"Ah Jessamine." A twinkle that was rare these days appeared in his eyes. "It's good to see you. You look beautiful, my daughter."

Jessamine wished she could say the same about him. As soon as all the chambermaids finished clearing away, and she got a real glimpse of her father, she had to stop herself from gasping out loud.

The once handsome and charming Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin, who for years had ruled the Empire with his warm and calm demeanor, had been reduced to a shell of his former self. A once full, rosy complexion had been replaced by pale, sunken cheeks, coupled with dark bags under his glassy eyes giving off the appearance of constant exhaustion. What remained of his hair had been replaced with the color gray, his famous golden locks now non-existent. The sudden illness had hit him hard, barely kept at bay by the full effort of the Royal Physician. At the moment, he had been confined to his bed, ordered by Sokolov to avoid unnecessary movement for the time being.

"Oh, father."

Jessamine rushed over to his side, ignoring the other dozen members present in the room at the moment. Bending over the bed, she embraced her aging father, softly touching his face, forcing a smile. For his sake.

"Jessamine."

Taking the seat that had been placed by the bed, she held his hand in hers.

"How are you doing, father? Hope Sokolov isn't being too bossy with all his rules."

Euhorn gave a small chuckle, leaning in with a mischievous smile.

"Oh you have no idea. Jessamine, you have to get me out of here. I'm going crazy, laying in this room all day, all my meals controlled, unable to do anything on my own. Please, you've snuck out of the Tower before, surely you of all people could find a way."

At her surprised expression, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Please, you really think I didn't know about your little 'excursions' in the middle of the night? Give me some credit, Jessamine. I am Emperor, after all, for however long that may be."

Jessamine responded with a wink.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, dear father. I am the picture of the perfect Princess, and would never dream of leaving Dunwall Tower without notifying you first." Leaning in closer, she whispered. "We have a boat in the harbor prepared to take you wherever you want to go, just say the word."

They both shared a good laugh, only interrupted when her father erupted into a coughing fit, where they were immediately swarmed by five different servants each carrying a glass filled with some colored liquid. Waving them all aside, Euhorn reached for the water on his nightstand, taking small, delicate sips.

"I've missed you, dear daughter."

"And I you, father."

He sighed heavily, eyes glassing over once more, as if he were in a different time, in a different place.

"It is the moments like this where I think about your mother." He met her gaze. "And how much you remind me of her."

Jessamine smiled sadly, recalling upon the memory of her late mother.

"Tell me more about her. How you met, your time together."

"Oh please, you've heard the story countless times already."

"Yes, but please. Indulge me, father. One last time."

Euhorn placed his glass down, rubbing his eyes before giving in to the request.

"I never could say no to you, could I? One last time. How many times have I heard that? Hah, perhaps you'll end up being a better diplomat than you think. Anyway, we met as most royal couples do, at one of those fancy arranged parties you hate so much. I was a young, strapping lad, quite handsome if I do say so myself." He chuckled, stroking his mustache.

"Oh I'm sure." Jessamine interrupted.

"There were quite a few royal families there, each one presenting their daughter to the Kaldwin family's first and only born son, yours truly. Keep in mind that at this point, I had still not been crowned Emperor, and would not for years to come. I was just another one of the countless nobles that occupy Gristol's daft aristocratic society. Beatrice, well, she was competing with three other young women for my hand, and my attention."

Euhorn paused for a moment to take another tentative sip, loudly clearing his throat, then continuing his tale.

"Just like you, I never enjoyed those uptight events that I was forced to attend. And it only got worse when I became Emperor. Anyway, there I was, with these four ladies, with three of them chatting my ear off like no tomorrow, each one with their own list of personal problems or tales that they believed I would find interesting. You'd be surprised just how boring some people can be. The entire dinner, your mother sat next to me, without uttering a word. After the three puppets had their fill of talk, they excused themselves for some reason that I didn't care about, and never will. As soon as they left, your mother exclaimed 'Ugh, I thought they'd never shut up.' I said, 'I know right?' In that moment, something clicked and we ended up chatting the entire night. The next day, I asked her to stay with me, and the rest is history."

They sat in silence for a while after. There was no sound, except for the occasional ruffling of the servants moving around. Jessamine was the first to break the silence.

"I miss her."

Her father gazed off into the distance.

"I miss her too."

The silence continued after that, and as the hour darkened, there were less and less servants in the room, until it eventually had been completely vacated, leaving only Jessamine and her father.

"Jessamine, I must admit, there is another reason I called you up here."

She woke from her daydream, having uncomfortably fallen asleep on the chair.

"What is it father?"

He looked uncomfortable, avoiding her eyes, struggling to get the words out of his mouth.

"I've got a question to ask you. Concerning Corvo."

Jessamine held her breath.

"There's been some…trouble back in Morley. A few of the officials we've assigned as placeholders have stopped reporting. Rumors of underground fighting has been echoing through the city. I only just heard about it recently. Now, we've sent a few envoys to check in on the situation, but there has been no word from them since. And I was thinking…of perhaps sending Corvo. He has a certain…well, authority and ability to defuse situations such as these that might prove more useful than any politician."

She didn't respond, taking in the request her father had made. Corvo, leaving for Morley. Without her. Struggling to find her voice, she asked.

"What did Corvo say?"

Euhorn replied.

"Well, I presented the situation to him earlier today, and he agreed to go. As long as you were fine with it."

So, she though, he wants to go. Fine, if he wanted to leave so badly, why should she deny him that. Jessamine did her best to contain the bubbling of emotions that threatened to overcome her. Hate. Betrayal. Sadness. Relief.

"It's fine with me. Tell Corvo he can go. He doesn't need to worry about me."

Her father noticed the trembling in her voice.

"Is everything alright, daughter? You seem distracted."

Distracted didn't even begin to cover it.

"I'm fine, just a little tired. Is that all, father?"

He smiled.

"That's all. Get some rest."

Jessamine rose, kissing her father on the forehead, and wishing him a good night before she left his room, closing the door softly behind her. Then, she made her way to her room, wishing to be alone, unbothered.

Corvo was leaving. Leaving to some island, far from Gristol, far from Dunwall. Away from her. She felt betrayed, yet relieved at the same time. Perhaps this would be better for the both of them, a little time for things to cool down, to think it over.

Jessamine fell onto her bed, exhausted.

"Damn you Corvo. Damn you."

"I'm going to miss you."

P.S. Feel free to rant to me about how long it's taken me to write this chapter, as encouragement to not do the same for the next ones.

P.P.S You're all great, love ya big time.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter XVIII

The weather in Morley was a bleak and depressing thing. In the middle of winter, the sky maintained its same dark grey coloration, with a slightly lighter shade during the day, and turning pitch black as night came. Cold winds and icy snow accompanied the grayness, as a man to his lover.

Not for the first time, Corvo found himself longing for the warm, tropical climate that Serkonos had become so well known for. Bundled in two layers of warm coats, he fiercely rubbed his gloved fingers together in a wasted attempt to coax some sensation into them. As much as Corvo hated wearing an abundance of clothing, mostly for their lack of mobility, he was not given much of a choice in this regard.

 _Just a bit of sun, that's all I ask for_ \- Corvo cursed to himself - _and a beach. A beach sound great now-,_ as he trudged down the snow-padded street of Morley, in search of his inn, and more importantly, the warmth it brought. As far as he could see, the paved streets were completely empty, without a single soul.

- _No one's stupid enough to head out in this storm. Well, no one except me_ -

He cursed, the cold quickly taking over. The tavern had to be nearby, if he recalled correctly. A sudden gust of wind rammed against Corvo with such intensity it drew him to his knees, every movement requiring all the energy he had. Gasping, he struggled on, crawling on all fours until he found the strength to push himself back up.

- _I can take on a group of armed men at once, bow to pompous aristocrats, and manage security for the most important man in the Empire, yet a little bad weather is enough to defeat me. Embarrassing.-_

In the distance, Corvo eyed the faint outline of a sign frozen on its hinges, moving slowly in the wind. With the end in sight, Corvo felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him, as his body forced itself to take one step after another, each one bringing him closer to warmth. Reaching the sign, Corvo collapsed against the door, which opened with a loud _thud_ as he stumbled onto the floor of the inn. Inside were a group of a dozen individuals, each one jumping from their seats as the bodyguard forced himself off the wooden floor and towards the fireplace in the middle of the building.

Quickly removing his gloves, Corvo thrust his frozen hands just over the roaring flame, sighing with relief as the warmth spread through his fingertips. Soon, the numbness dissipated, as color and sensation rushed once more through his veins and body, leaving him with a lasting toasty feeling.

- _Live to fight another day._ \- Beckoning one of the wenches over, he slowly removed his outer thick coat, placing it on the bench aside him to dry.

"What'll it be, handsome?" The serving-woman spoke in a heavy Morley accent, so heavy Corvo barely understood a word. But one does not need to know the language to talk food and drinks.

"Warm ale. And hot soup."

Normally Corvo preferred not to drink, but he was in a good mood and felt like enjoying himself. Something to take his mind off the horrid weather. Why he had decided to travel to Morley in the dead of winter was beyond him. Granted, at the moment of his decision he didn't really care where he went, as long as it gave him some much-needed distance from the capitol. From her.

And there it was again. Half a world away stranded on a desolate icy wasteland, and still Corvo couldn't get her out of his head. So much had happened too quickly. Ever since the awful Tyvian suitor had been dealt with, he could feel her drifting away. Not that Corvo blamed her. He understood the need for space, especially after an event like that. Yet instead of the gap closing between the two, and things returning to normal, the ridge only expanded. There had been days where Corvo hadn't even seen her, that she had spent locked in her room, or absorbed in her studies. All he wanted-

The servant stopped by with a plate of soup and a cup of ale on a tray, placing it clumsily on the table, spilling a bit of the watery broth onto Corvo's coat. Gasping, the servant removed the towel from her waistband and reached for the mark.

"I…I'm so sorry, milord, it was an accident. I promise you, it won't happen again."

Corvo stopped her, giving her a smile as he brushed over the already fading stain in the dark blue fabric. The wench who had served him the food was another one of the maids who ran around serving customers. She was younger, a comely lass, with a pretty face, and a nervous expression on her face. Must be new.

"It's alright. Don't worry about it."

The servant nodded, trembling slightly as she bowed slightly before leaving. Looking down at his coat, Corvo realized why the young lady had reacted the way she did. Embroidered on the shoulders was the banner for the Kaldwin Royal family. It had not been his intention to reveal his presence as Lord Protector to the common people of Morley, but in his search for warmer clothing, he must have grabbed it without thinking, instinctively.

Corvo cursed, taking a slow look around to see if anyone else had noticed the short ordeal. Luckily, the majority of the inn's members were either properly soused, or too engrossed in their own worlds to care about the interactions between some cold drifter and a maid.

Returning to the comfort and tranquility of the flame, Corvo took a tentative sip of his ale, smiling with satisfaction as the liquid ran its course through his insides, warming them in the way that only alcohol could.

And once again his thoughts turned to her. Princess Jessamine Kaldwin, future Empress and heir to the Empire of the Isles. Jessamine. The dreadful night at the Fugue Feast. Playing the event back in his head, he regretted every word he said. All he had done was add fuel to the fire. His words meant nothing to her then, it was just the mere action that he was fighting her, instead of embracing her, comforting her in a moment of need.

But the past could not be undone. The next morning the Emperor, from his bedchamber, had briefed Corvo on the delicacy of the situation here in Morley, as well as the urgency. By the end of the week, Corvo had set off towards the northern island, hoping that the task at hand, as well as the new environment would help him clear his head and put aside the past events for the time being. Not that it ended up being any different.

Once arriving, he had spent the first few weeks following up on the ambassadors placed by the Emperor, only to find they had been held captive by local resistance members. He made quick work of the rebel forces, channeling his rage and frustration into his work, and managing to broker a delicate peace between the rebellion and appointed officials of the Morley government. From there, he had just been running around, fortifying the Emperor's support throughout the region, ensuring that when he left, things would not fall apart without his sword and fist to enforce it.

In fact, he had just returned from a meeting with a few couriers from Emperor Euhorn relaying some further orders and treaties to be parsed out throughout Morley, when he had overheard their conversation about Jessamine's rejection of yet another suitor. The mere mention of her name was enough to cause his mind to wander, and everything he had tried to put aside for the moment came rushing back.

Mulling over the day's events, Corvo tried a spoonful of the steaming soup. _Eh_. Wasn't the best soup in the world, but he had certainly had worse.

A small figure burst through the door, bringing in a breeze of cold wind into the establishment, waking Corvo from his nap. The sudden intrusion was enough to bring him fully aware, his right hand shooting instinctively to the blade on his belt. Wrapped in layers of clothing, the figure was almost unidentifiable until they started exclaiming for help, betraying the stranger as a woman. She shrieked out, her voice filled with terror and desperation.

"Help please! Me husband, they've taken me husband! Oh, oh, oh!" The woman looked faint, collapsing from exhaustion on the nearest bench.

Corvo was already on the move, crossing the room in a flash, catching her as she began to fall. Holding her steady, he slowly lowered her down onto one of the adjacent chairs next to the flame. Although the temperature outside was dastardly low, beads of sweat dripped down her face, and was sickly pale. Reaching for his bowl, Corvo offered the young woman his meal, which she took gratefully, taking small sips of the hot broth. As she ate, Corvo looked her over for any physical injuries, searching for tears in the clothing, or any suspicious dark stains. Once he was satisfied that she wasn't in immediate harm, he turned his attention to conversation.

"Are you alright?"

The woman shook her head between mouthfuls of soup, finishing it quickly, then raising her eyes to meet his.

"I'm fine, sir. But please, you must help my husband, he's been taken!" Her voice broke up as tears formed on the corner of her eyes.

"Shh, it's alright. Deep breaths. Now, tell me what happened."

Taking a shaky breath, she spoke.

"We was walking back from the market in town-"

"You were at the market now? In this weather?"

She eyed him.

"Just because it's cold outside doesn't mean we mustn't eat."

"Of course. Continue."

"Well, we was walking back from the market, and were almost home, when a group of thugs, cold-hearted bastards with knives as big as me arm showed up, began threatening my poor Nielen."

"What about?"

Reluctantly, she continued.

"Oh sir, my Nielen is a good man, he is. It's just…sometimes he gambles, and well, recently he lost a bit of money that he hasn't been able to pay back. It wasn't his fault, he was just trying to put food on the table for us!"

"I understand."

At this point, the tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, and down her cheeks. Sniffling, she rubbed her belly.

"Almost home, we was. The next, we was surrounded. Five or six, it looked like. They grabbed Nielen, kicked him down, woulda nabbed me too, if it wasn't for…"

Her voice trailed off, gaze gone distant.

"Wasn't for what?"

She stared at him in the eyes.

"Wasn't for the fact that I'm pregnant."

He looked down to her stomach, which she had been gently massaging for the entirety of their conversation. Taking a closer look, he could faintly see the outline of her protruding belly, which up until then he had simply mistaken for as part of the many coats she wore. But now there was no mistaking. The woman was pregnant, and the father had been taken hostage.

Corvo cursed out loud, much to the lady's astonishment.

* * *

The evenings passed by at a snail's pace, each day filled with the most mundane of tasks. Mornings usually consisted of advanced rhetoric lessons, learning the proper way to address each member of the hierarchy, as well as how to more effective present one's point in a way that was convincing and effective. Once that was out of the way, came the studying of the Empire's history and laws, with the full expectancy to have them memorized by the time her reign came along.

"You've hardly touched your food, Princess."

Jessamine twirled the fork absently in her fingers, staring at an ordinary looking carrot.

"If you wish for something else to eat, I can ask the cook…"

"No, it's alright. Just not hungry today."

Her instructor sighed disapprovingly, returning to her own meal.

"Princess, you must eat more. I don't like this habit you're developing of ignoring your food. You must be healthy and fit, for when the time comes-"

"When the time comes, I'll be Empress. Yes, I know. I don't need you reminding me of it every day. Trust me, I'm fully aware of what my future holds." Jessamine interrupted, sick of the condescending attitude the professor had taken. Rising suddenly, she gave a quick bow.

"My lord, if you'll excuse me. I must see to my father, and his needs."

Before the instructor could object, she was already flying out the room, skipping down the hallways of her Tower, making her way up to her room. Jessamine had full intentions on visiting her father at some point in the day, just not now. Now, all she needed was a bit of peace and quiet. Or rather, quite the opposite. Moping around in her bed, she felt the sudden urge, the need for action.

Throwing open her closet doors, she rummaged through the lower drawers, until she found what she was looking for. A pair of dull, worn-down clothes, the same ones Jessamine used for her daily escapes with Corvo. Except this time, she would be going on her own.

It had been three months since her Royal Protector had taken off to the lonely land of Morley, to sort out some sensitive diplomatic situation, at the behest of her father. Three months, and his presence was sorely missed. Without him around, she had grown even more bored, and uninspired. After having him by her side since she was a child, it felt as if something had been torn from her.

Shaking off her foul mood, Jessamine donned the ratty clothing, and approached her window. How many times had she done this with him, taking off in the middle of lessons to peruse the city, to mingle with the common folk, escape the dull life of rules and properness. Every time together, her constant companion, indulging her any want.

Thrusting the idea of Corvo out of her mind for the moment, she set herself to the task of navigating the courtyard, the paths of the guardsmen engrained in her memory. Making her way through without any trouble, Jessamine walked the well-worn path down from Dunwall Tower to the city below. From there, she wasn't sure what to do, where to go. All the other times she had been here, Corvo had served as her guide. She would simply ask where to go, and Corvo would take her there.

In the end, music would be her guide today. Nearing one of the busy intersections, she perked up at the faint sound of a piano being accompanied with a lively chorus. Her curiosity peaked, Jessamine navigated through Dunwall, until she found the source of the music. _The Duke and Dancer Ale House_. Opening the door, Jessamine was greeted by an extravaganza.

Dozens of people had crammed their way into the inn, and had formed a large circle, singing and dancing, elbow to elbow with each other. Just outside the dancers, a pianist played away with a grin on his face and a girl on his lap. Stunned, Jessamine stood at the doorway, until the barkeep took notice, and called her over. Still not believing her eyes, she approached the man, who gave her a smile, and gestured over to the group. Moving in for a closer look, she noticed there wasn't any specific dance or song that was being performed, instead just individuals expressing themselves in their fullest.

As her confidence grew, Jessamine joined the chorus, singing and shouting alongside people she had never met before in her life, and will probably never see again, yet there they were, as if they had all know each other forever.

Soon, Jessamine pushed her way into the center, and began dancing away, letting go of all the stress and anxiety that had previously plagued her troubled mind, allowing herself to be free, even if it was for the fleeting moment. With each twist and turn, the crowd cheered on, new faces constantly appearing as people joined their liberating event. A man appeared at her side, taking her hand in his, and guiding her in a dance. She danced the evening away, going down the line, joining hands with each person, matching their rhythm with her own, leaving a lasting impression with each.

Soon, the sun began to grow heavy in the sky, and had started to sink beneath the deep blue.

Taking one last look around, Jessamine spun herself slowly, in an attempt to memorize each one of her partner's faces, the shape of their smile, the color of their eyes. They hadn't spoken a word to one another, yet they all knew each other's hearts as if it were their own. She refused to be saddened by the fact that by tomorrow those details would be long lost to her, a distant memory of a happier time.

As she neared the end of the circle, her eyes caught a familiar tall silhouette leaning in the shadows of the doorframe. Stopping in her tracks, she squinted her eyes, trying to make out any distinguishing features, but the silhouette disappeared through the door, exiting to the street. Without hesitation she ran, breaking through the crowd, pushing her way through until she reached the door. Exiting the inn, Jessamine desperately looked around for the ghost, the one person missing from her perfect evening. Alas, whatever illusion she had seen in the tavern just then had been just that, some conjuring of her own mind, making up for the lack of the real thing.

A crow cawed loudly, landing on the streetlamp next to Jessamine. Catching her attention, she watched it intently, staring deeply into its black, bottomless eyes, surrounded by wisdom and mystery. She recalled a memory, of years past. Fall had reached Dunwall, on a day very much like today. There was a wedding, with a park. And Corvo. But that was long ago.

Jessamine never felt more alone in her life.

* * *

 _-Night'll be coming soon. -_ Corvo mused, noting as the sky began turning a darker shade of grey.

The entire evening had been spent tracking down the rogues that had so rudely taken the woman's husband. After speaking with her further, Corvo had learned her name was Cora, and had been married for just a few years. At moments during the evening, Corvo questioned himself as to just why he was doing this. He didn't need any money, nor did he necessarily feel any sort of strong moral obligation towards the people of Morley. And yet for some reason, his last few hours had been spent trudging through snow and dirt in search for any sign of the bandits.

He sighed. "Why the hell am I doing this?" - _You know why -_.

Yes, the truth was Corvo knew exactly why he was doing this somewhat pointless task, but refused to admit it.

His internal argument was broken when he caught sight of a dark spot on the snow in front of one of the alleys. Kneeling, he knew immediately what it was. Blood.

- _Judging from the size and richness of color, this was fairly recent-._

Backing away, he began searching in a wide radius, for any other blood splatter that might indicate a trail of where to look. Soon enough, a second stain was found. Noticeably smaller than the first, but it was still enough to work with. Using the two stains, Corvo tried to predict where the trail led to, and where it had come from, before taking a gamble and heading in the direction of the second stain.

It wasn't long before sounds began to emanate through the wind. Audible grunting, followed by the occasional sneeze or cough.

- _Bingo-._

As he closed in on their location, he picked up voices as well.

"…messing with us, that's what it gets ya."

"Please sirs…you knows I meant to pay you back. It's just, with my child on its way…"

"Oh please, don't bring that up again! We let your wife go, didn't we? Well, you work with us here, and maybe we won't go back for her, yeah?"

Corvo had heard enough. His first idea was to approach them cautiously, and try to negotiate some kind of deal, to avoid any unnecessary risks to the husband, but as far as he was concerned, that option no longer appealed to him. An ugly bitterness arose within Corvo, feelings he hadn't felt in a long time. No, he wasn't going to talk with these men. He was going to watch them suffer, and die, for what they did to the poor man, and for what they did to his wife. There would only be retribution, by his blade. And he had some steam to burn off.

Removing one of his coats for better mobility, he slowly unsheathed his sword, taking care not to make a sound.

There were five of them, armed with shortswords stowed properly away in their scabbards at the hip. Only one of them had their blade out, using it to threaten the lost husband. The rest stood around, relaxed, laughing, soft. There was no preparation.

Corvo flew from his hiding spot, instantly cutting down one of the men with a stab to the neck, dark, warm liquid splashing all over him. Without breaking his stride, he moved onto the next one, driving the blade deep into his chest, until blood gurgled out of his mouth and the man's eyes rolled to the back of his head.

- _Two down-_

The remaining three, who had already started to recover from the unexpected assault, drew their blades, standing nervously as they got a good glimpse at their attacker. Corvo smiled. He looked like death, blood dripping down his face, seeping into the lighter fabric of his coat, blade in hand coated in the lifeline of their companions, who only moments ago, had been living and breathing.

"Oy, who's this freak?!"

"He's killed Ollie and McMannus!"

"What the fuck is going on here?! Who are you?!"

Corvo gave no response to the question, instead jumping into action. Anger and a hunger for blood warmed him, kept him active as he tore apart the remaining three thugs like paper. By the end of it, he was panting so heavily from the exertion that he collapsed to his knees, taking deep breaths.

The only live one was the poor husband, who lay sprawled across the ground, surrounded by corpses, terrified.

Once he regained his breath, Corvo rose, approaching the husband.

"Are you Nielen?"

The man nodded his head, trying to stop himself from shaking visibly.

"Your wife…she's waiting for you in the nearby tavern. Come with me. I'll take you to her."

On the short way back to the inn, Corvo had managed to clean a bit of the blood off his face, in an effort to make himself somewhat presentable to the public. As they neared the inn, he heard a short cry.

"Nielen!"

Corvo turned to see Cora standing teary eyed by the door to the tavern.

"Cora!"

Nielen took off running towards his wife, wrapping his arms around her as they collided. In that moment, no one else mattered in the world. The two lovers had been reunited. It was a wondrous sight, each one embracing each other, serving as anchors to reality. The rarity of such unity was touching, the sliver of light in a dark, stormy world plagued by hatred and distain.

It was too much. Corvo turned away, heading in the opposite direction, away from the starry-eyed couple, and their beautiful conjunction. Instead, his mind turned to raven hair, to hunger for adventure, to lifelong friend. To more, so much more.

Corvo had to get back to Dunwall, as soon as he could.


	19. Chapter 19

Final Chapter

It was a great feast, with guests from far and wide, ranging from every corner of the Empire. Hundreds of people, some of the most powerful men and women in the world, gathered together, crowding the same halls, drinking from the same cups, dining from the same tables. Dukes, kings, princesses, nobles, every range of power had been accounted for. Such a spectacle was a rare sight to see, one that most would be lucky to see even once in their lifetime.

Very few people had the strength and influence to bring such an event into fruition. Even less would use it for such a purpose. Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin was one of those people.

The real reason Emperor Euhorn had convened such an event was for a much broader, noble purpose. It was a reminder of peace. Unlike many other Emperors in the Empire's troubled past, Euhorn's reign was one of relative uneventfulness, proving to be an era of tranquility and prosperity.

This feast served as a memorial to such an era, as a beacon of hope that peace could be achieved, as long as the people strove for that outcome.

Of course, this wasn't the only thing that this historic event celebrated. These weren't stated in the invitation, but it was easy enough to guess that they coincided too conveniently with the timing. For the first time in months, the Emperor's health had greatly improved, with great help to the Royal Physician, Anton Sokolov, and his revolutionary health elixirs. And there was the return of a certain Royal Lord Protector, whose arrival was too much of a coincidence with the timing of the banquet for it to be ignored.

* * *

Corvo stepped into the decorated halls of Emperor's personal manor, outside the city part of Dunwall. It had been just over a year since he had set foot on the capital city of the Empire, and it felt almost like an entirely new place. Everything, from the sights, the sky, even the air, was rich with intense feeling and positivity. When he had left a year past, it had been on rough terms, with an Emperor confined to his bed, the Princess distraught, and a possible threat looming from the North.

Now, the old atmosphere had been completely uprooted. Emperor Euhorn mingled among his guests, red-cheeked, laughing and drinking, though just water, per orders of the Royal Physician. The threat of possible rebellion in Morley had been effectively eliminated, thanks to Corvo. All that was left, was the current state of the Royal Princess, which as far as Corvo was concerned, was the only part that mattered.

Walking through the lavish banquet, Corvo stopped every once in a while, to greet some noble, or to accept a handshake and congratulations from a group of aristocrats who were fearless enough to approach him. Most others kept their distance, eyeing him from afar as he passed by, whispering words in secret. Corvo paid them no mind, strutting through as if he hadn't even noticed them.

The one thing Corvo couldn't ignore was the almost raw power emanating from the manor. He had no love for many of the figureheads here, but that did not mean he did not understand, or respect the influence the individuals he walked beside held over the balance of their world.

It was almost overwhelming.

Instead, Corvo tried to narrow his focus for one particular individual. His attention moved from group to group, searching for the dark hair, slender figure, soft black eyes. Yet she was nowhere to be found. Moving from room to room, his efforts bore no fruit

Soon, at the sound of trumpets, followed by waiters in black and white ushering the appetizers away, the congregation of mighty guests were gathered towards the main dining hall, with Corvo tagging along for the ride, while refusing to give up his search. As they neared the tables, one of the stone-faced guards of the Imperial Royal Guard singled Corvo out, pulling him aside from the masses.

"Lord Protector, his Majesty wishes for to see you. This way please."

Knowing one could not directly ignore a request from the Emperor, he accepted the guards request, following him along the outskirts of the outer buffets, until they made their way to the table of honor, reserved for the Royal Family, as well as other valued members of royalty or the government. Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin sat at the head of the table, deep in conversation with Anton Sokolov, no doubt a reminder of his until recently, delicate state of health. Yet as soon as the Emperor caught a glance of Corvo approaching the table, he concluded their discussion, turning his full attention to the Lord Protector, with a glistening smile and arms wide.

"Corvo! You've returned!" The two embraced for a moment, much to the surprise of the guests. Even some of the Emperor's closest and longtime friends were usually greeted with a firm handshake and soft words. To meet someone with such familiarity, especially one coming from such low birth, certainly caught the eye of more than a few members of the audience. But the Emperor didn't care.

"How was your trip? Short, I hope. I'm sorry I've been unable to meet with you before today, planning this event has taken its toll on my strength."

Corvo liked the Emperor. He was one of the few people of noble birth who seemed to actually understand the value of all human life, not just those who were lucky enough to be born with riches and titles. Ruling an empire tended to change its rulers, turning them into power-hungry monarchs, ignoring the wellbeing of their own people for the sake of their own personal gain. Euhorn differed in every aspect. He commanded integrity and goodwill in a way that was rare in those days.

"Your Majesty. The trip was fine, nothing too exciting."

The Emperor patted him on the back, gesturing to the open spectacle.

"Well? What do you think? Every head that holds power in my empire, give or take a few."

"It's…impressive."

"Come, I wanted to personally show you to your seat, here, by my side."

Then he saw her. Entering from the balcony upstairs, she seemed to glide down the stairway. All time stopped, and Corvo lost sight of everything else.

She had her hair in a single braid, letting the long, black locks flow over her shoulder. Her dress was shimmering white, impossible to resist as it illuminated the room. Yet it was her face that mesmerized him.

Skin as clear and fresh as a summer's morning, one that indicates the beginning of a beautiful day. Lips the color of pomegranate, and just as sweet, full as the lonely moon. And eyes, how her eyes radiated the true beauty of soul. Dark and mysterious as the night sky, softly emanating curiosity and love for all.

She ascended with such grace, like a goddess from her throne among the clouds, bestowing the mortals below with her kindness and bewitching gaze, to which none could resist.

Truly, she was a sight like no other.

"Her Majesty, Princess Jessamine Kaldwin, first of her name!"

The herald cried out, announcing the name and presence of the goddess to those who were oblivious enough not to notice her.

She acknowledged the herald, reaching the dining table where her father and Corvo sat. With her father, they shared a short hug and a smile, and when it came to Corvo, they locked eyes for a moment, before she extended a hand. Bending down, he took it, and planted a gentle kiss on the top of her hand. He desperately tried to guess what she was thinking, going over each feature of her beautiful face for some clue. Nothing.

At last, they all sat, to enjoy the meal. Dozens of servants poured out of nowhere, laden with wine glasses filled with the rarest vintages the Empire could find, beginning the downpour of drinks, ensuring that each guest's glass was never empty. Then arrived the food. Once the wine had been exhausted, and there was a lull in the moment to refill, came another batch of waiters, carrying only the most exquisite dishes from every side of the Isles. It had taken the cooks at Dunwall Tower months in advance to gather, prepare, and finish all the meals for the feast that night, and even then, they had barely finished in time.

"I would like to begin this speech by saying I consider each and every one of you close friends. I know there are those of you who have not always agreed with the way I have ruled the Isles, or some of the decisions I have made, but hopefully by showing up here, it means you are ready to put our differences behind us, even if just for one night."

A murmur of agreement went up across the crowd.

"I brought you all here today, for a very important reason. For a very important celebration. Peace. For years, our Empire was plagued with civil wars, bloodshed and political discord. Dark times where death ran rampant, from the huts of the poor farmers, to rich and powerful Emperors. I would like to say now, with my glass raised high, looking at you all, that the time of chaos is over. Together, we, have achieved something much more valuable than all the gold in the world, than all the land combined. Peace and reconciliation across our wondrous empire."

It was a great speech, in all honesty. Sincerity coming from the very depths of the Emperor's soul. And yet, even knowing how much it meant to him, Corvo found it difficult to listen. Not that he didn't enjoy the speech, or disagreed with it any way. He just found himself distracted. By her.

As the Emperor recited his essay worthy enough to go down in history, one that the privileged few would have the honor of listening to, Corvo was watching her. Not that it was really that hard. They were sitting just across from one another, each one at the Emperor's side.

It was as if he was looking at her for the first time, as if the last six years he had spent following her around a veil had been placed over his eyes, hiding her from his sight. And now, it had finally been removed, to reveal her in all her splendor.

He did everything in his power to catch her eye, but it seemed she was purposefully ignoring him, keeping her look and smile on her father, who continued with his speech. Losing his patience, making sure everyone was properly distracted, he slipped a piece of bread into his hand, calculating the distance to her plate. Corvo never got the chance, as his tomfoolery attempt to gain her attention was interrupted by a much more prominent figure, the Emperor.

"…but there is someone else I'd like to introduce to you. Let me be the first to publicly welcome back, after a year away from Dunwall, the Royal Lord Protector, Corvo Attano."

The sudden attention being shifted towards him was such a shock that for a moment he didn't know what to do, standing there with his glass held high, as if he hadn't heard the announcement. Recovering, but not fast enough to get a chuckle from a few members of the audience, he directed his glass to the Emperor, giving him a nod. He glanced over to see Jessamine holding her own laughter. Corvo gave a chuckle back of his own.

"Ever since his arrival in Gristol from Serkonos, Lord Protector Attano has served the royal family with utmost loyalty and efficiency. He has stood by me and my family's side in times of joy, and times of despair. And yet, even through the tough times, his presence with us never wavered, and with that, say that I greet your safe return to Dunwall as a brother, or son, because as far as I'm concerned, you're as much a Kaldwin as any of us."

This time, Corvo couldn't just put aside the words of the Emperor. To hear such words spoken, by the Emperor of the Isles, was more than he could have ever imagined. When Corvo had lost his own family, all those years ago, he had put aside any idea of having a family ever again. The way he had seen it, based on his line of work, he wouldn't live long enough for such a thing. Not that he really sook it out.

No words came to his tongue, no response would have adequately expressed just how he felt, so instead he leaned in to the Emperor's ear.

"Thank you."

The Emperor placed a warm hand on Corvo shoulder, nodding, face brimming with familiarity. He then turned back to the crowd.

"I guess I owe the thanks for Corvo to one person in specific, and she's standing here right by my side. Ladies and gentlemen, your future Empress, and my daughter, Jessamine Kaldwin."

Now it was time for her unexpected praise. It seemed the Emperor was full of surprises that night.

All eyes turned to the future ruler of the Empire. Those who weren't already looking.

"My lovely daughter." He sighed. "My lovely daughter, who stood by my bedside, to console the worried mind of an ill father. My daughter, who has woken up each day with a smile on her face, willing to challenge the world. What more can be said that hasn't been said already?"

A melancholy expression passed over the Emperor's face, followed by a sudden tiredness, as if the years were finally catching up to him.

"Anyway, that's enough talking for me. Eat, drink, be merry! Enjoy the long-lasting peace we've secured, the monument of our life's work! And thank you, all of you!"

And with thunderous applause, Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin took his seat at the table, and the merriment began.

At some point, just before everyone had finished their meal, Jessamine excused herself, whispering a word in her father's ear, shooting a glance at Corvo, and taking off upstairs. Waiting until everyone had concluded eating, and the after-dinner socializing had begun, Corvo excused himself, making his way through the crowd, looking for any sign of Jessamine.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glinting of a white dress. Turning in the direction, he managed to see Jessamine just turn the corner. Hastening his pace, Corvo followed. The game of cat and mouse continued, with Jessamine being just out of his reach.

At last, it seemed the game would be reaching its conclusion as they neared a more secluded area of the manor, with almost no guests, and what appeared to be a dead end. But before Corvo could utter a word, Jessamine pulled out a key and unlocked the only door out, shutting it securely behind her.

He reached the door a few seconds after then entered, trying the handle only to find it was locked. Locked. What was she getting at? Corvo examined the hinges of the doorframe. Made of solid steel, there was no way this door would come down with brute force alone. Looking around the room for anything of use, he noticed a single window, leading to the outside of the manor.

Checking once more to make sure no one was around, he reached into one of his pockets, and pulling out a knife and bobby pin, made quick work of the lock. Pushing open the window, Corvo was greeted with a warm wind breeze. Glancing outside, he saw the window leading into the other room.

Taking great care, Corvo climbed out the open window, scaling slowly across the ledge until he reached the other room. A quick glance showed nothing, only a single lamp. A look below him revealed only empty gardens. Corvo took off his dining jacket, wrapping it around his fist, and smashing it into window, sending pieces of glass everywhere. Clearing the window sill, he jumped in, expertly avoiding any broken shards.

Once he entered the room, the first thing he saw was a pair of heels placed against the doorframe from the hallway he had just come from. Next to the heels was a peculiar wooden object. A closer look revealed it to be a training sword. His curiosity growing, Corvo picked up the weapon, examining it for some clue. A faint rustle of fabric behind him interrupted his observations, as he turned just in time to block a sword heading for his chest. Years of training instincts kicked in, and he brought up his own sword immediately, parrying the strike. Once he identified his attacker, Corvo took a step back.

In front of him, stood Jessamine, in her iconic dress, barefoot, wielding a training sword of her own.

He smiled. He couldn't help it. Over a year had passed. It had been too long.

His friendliness made him lower his guard, and Jessamine, with a smile of her own, chose to strike. Intoxicated by her beauty, Corvo didn't raise his block until it was too late, the sword whacking him across the face.

A gasp erupted from Jessamine, but she kept her guard up. Corvo felt at the welt growing on his forehead, before turning to face her. The smile hadn't left his face. This time, he raised his sword, waiting for her attack.

Jessamine moved, bringing her sword to impact with him, but he quickly dodged it, swinging his own sword, only to watch her quickly switch positions to block it. Intrigued, Corvo moved onto the defensive, letting Jessamine move forward. He deflected each one of her strikes, each one bringing them closer together, until they were almost arm's length apart, trading blows. Corvo noticed Jessamine tiring, and decided to move in for the finish. But as he struck, Jessamine, with invigorated strength, slapped his wrist with the tip of her sword. The surprise burst of energy was enough for Corvo to drop his sword, concluding the fight with Jessamine holding her blade to his chest.

Moving the tip up to his neck, she pressed slightly before releasing pressure and whispering.

"Don't you ever leave me again, Corvo Attano."

He gazed long and hard into her eyes.

"Never, Jessamine."

Jessamine threw the sword aside, wrapping her arms around Corvo. He hugged her back, refusing to hold back, as he had for so long. They held each other in their arms, before breaking apart for a moment, only lock eyes.

They say that the eyes are the window to a person's soul. Corvo and Jessamine had lived through so much together. Who they were, they dedicated to each other. Since his arrival in Dunwall, the two had served as two parts of a greater whole.

They moved in closer, as Corvo ran his fingers through her hair, and she placed a soft hand on his cheek. If only the moment had lasted longer.

A loud rap on the door, followed by a voice calling out shattered the perfection. Corvo's eyes widened, looking over at the broken window, then at the door, and back at Jessamine. There she stood, barely holding in her laughter, as he gave her a wide grin, and ran towards the open window.

"Hello? Is someone in there?"

The low giggling of Jessamine Kaldwin was dwarfed by the jingling of keys, as whoever was on the other side of the door tried to get in.

Corvo took one look back at the Princess, giving her a wink and a smile before he leaped out, scaling down the side of the building with ease.

"Hello? Oh, Princess Jessamine! What are you doing here? And what happened to the window?! Oh, you're barefoot too! Please, your Majesty, put on your shoes before you cut yourself."

Jessamine put on an innocent look.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It was an accident. I was just…practicing my sword-fighting, and…it slipped out of my hand and hit the window!"

The servant, too preoccupied with sweeping up the broken glass, nodded.

"Of course, your Majesty. Not to worry, someone will be up shortly to fix the window. How about we make our way back to the main hall?"

"Yes, lets." Jessamine replied.

As she left the room, she stared at the broken window once more, then walked out.

* * *

It seemed as if the feast was never going to end. After her…exercise, Jessamine had returned to the dining hall to her father, and was unexpectedly forced to partake in a lot more conversing than she anticipated, or wished for the evening. But, it had come to an end.

Exhausted, Jessamine pushed open the door to her chambers, tossing her uncomfortable heels at the corner of her dresser, and plopping down on her bed with a sigh.

A sudden draft of wind caused a shiver up her spine. Rising from her bed, Jessamine saw her window open, the curtains parted aside. Her heart fluttered. He was here.

"Took you long enough."

He appeared out of the shadows without a word. Jessamine no longer held back. She ran to him, jumping in his arms. Expecting such, Corvo held his position, catching her as she flew through the air. Their faces moved closer together, to the point of no return.

Corvo kissed her. Jessamine kissed him. Their worlds exploded with emotion, as the culmination of years had reached its ultimate destiny.

Jessamine fell on her bed. Corvo fell with her. She embraced him, running her hands through his hair, down his back, feeling the sharp stubble scratch her face with each kiss.

Corvo welcomed her touch, basking in her warmth, as his own hands ran up and down, feeling every inch and curve of her body.

It was more than lust. More than a desire. It was a need. It was understanding.

The two laid entangled together in their bed, while the rest of the world span on. But it didn't matter. They didn't speak, because no words were needed. Their bodies, and minds did all the talking that was necessary.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

 **The End**

 **Final Note: And so, the journey has come to an end. Almost two years ago, I started writing this story, and while it's definitely had its ups and downs, we've reached the conclusion. I had much more planned for these two, but I think this is a good place to finish their story.**

 **Thank you, all of you for sticking around and reading my stuff, for your criticisms and your compliments. You have no idea how much it means to me to know that people have actually enjoyed the things I've written. I've always enjoyed reading your comments, and there's always a rush of joy submitting a story, just knowing that people are looking forward to reading it.**

 **I hope that you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing this wonderful story, even if it seemed at times like the opposite. Even as I finish writing this, I'm filled with this feeling of melancholy, and satisfaction, knowing that at least I was able to wrap this story up somewhat neatly.**

 **Many thanks, you all have my love,**

 **MD.**


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